


Lover to Lover

by naturallymorbid



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Dom/sub, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Multi, Multiple Sex Positions, NSFW, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POC inclusive as I can make it right now, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, male reader - Freeform, poc friendly, requests open, updated to be POC inclusive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallymorbid/pseuds/naturallymorbid
Summary: Collection of imagines with different male characters from Bleach in different situations. NSFW. Requests open.
Relationships: Abarai Renji/You, Aizen Sousuke/You, Ayasegawa Yumichika/You, Coyote Starrk/You, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/You, Hirako Shinji/You, Hisagi Shuuhei/You, Ichimaru Gin/You, Kuchiki Byakuya/You, Kurosaki Ichigo/You, Kurotsuchi Mayuri/You, Kyouraku Shunsui/You, Madarame Ikkaku/You, Muguruma Kensei/You, Sado "Chad" Yasutora/You, Szayel Aporro Granz/You, Ukitake Juushirou/You, Ulquiorra Cifer/You, Urahara Kisuke/You, Yamada Hanatarou/You, Zaraki Kenpachi/You
Comments: 218
Kudos: 510





	1. Kisuke Urahara/ Reader – Once a Bridesmaid

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are open! 😊 I’m a bit rusty, but I think I’ll improve with practice.

You hadn’t wanted to spend your weekend at this wedding, but when one of the original bridesmaids had gotten sick, you were asked to fill in. You knew the bride, you weren’t best friends, but you hated for someone’s big day to be ruined. 

Besides, the dress was a beautiful light seafoam green, ruched across the bosom to provide a fuller illusion, pleated waist, and a hemline around your knees. You were tiny enough to take the place of your old university friend who had come down with the flu, morning of. 

The bride and the groom were incredibly kind to you and thankful you had filled in for the ceremony and all the pictures.

You had debated on going home after the reception started, but your friend texted and reminded this was a good way to get a date for the rest of the weekend. Maybe even more than a date. Your last relationship had ended so abysmally that you had sworn off dating for a while. 

You started to ignore her advice when a sandy-haired man caught your attention across the room. He was drinking sake alone, watching the bride and groom dance. 

He looked familiar…

“Urahara-san!” you called, his name tumbling from your mouth before you brain knew what happened.

You had worked in his shop this summer after university, moving supply boxes around and helping manage inventory. You had enjoyed his sarcasm and jokes, the quiet eccentricities of late night tinkerings. But you had found yourself crushing on him the longer you worked there. 

When something else in your field of study had come open, you jumped at the chance and left the shop behind. It had been an opportunity, you told yourself, but you really knew that it was to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of a one-sided relationship with your boss. He didn’t seem to see you in the same light, and it was better to leave, to cut the crush off quickly before it could bloom. 

The shop wasn’t too far from your flat; you passed it all the time, often speaking to the children there and Tessai-san whenever they were out sweeping. You still waved to Urahara when he was outside on the porch, lounging around.

Grey eyes widened in surprise as his gaze settled directly on you. 

“_____ - chan! Maa~ I didn’t realize you were here too,” he said, waving you over. His serious expression was replaced with a wide smile.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” you told him as he ordered you a drink. 

His signature green and white striped bucket hat was gone, along with his black haori and dark green Shihakusho. He was wearing a black suit with a green undershirt. 

With geta. Well, that was more like him. 

“I was told the dress code was formal,” he said, handing you a cup of chilled sake. You had only seen him a few times without his hat. You liked the way his blonde hair was exposed, drifting in between his eyes. The urge to rake your hand through his locks was strong; you gripped the sake cup with more force than necessary.

“I was told I had to fill in,” you said, gesturing to your dress. Instead of sipping the sake, you downed it in a gulp and gave a little spin, feeling blessed cool air under the skirt. 

“The color suits you,” Urahara told you. Those grey eyes raked over your curves, lingering on your breasts, which were pushed up in the form-fitting dress. You couldn’t ignore the intensity of his gaze, how it seemed to electrify each piece of your body it assessed. 

“Thank you,” you said, as you motioned for a refill on your sake. Why was the air suddenly so hot and dry? You licked your parched lips, seeking any relief. 

He nodded, taking a long drink. When you had worked in his shop this summer, it had taken considerable self-control not to act on his baser instincts. 

Gods, when you would bend over in those short dresses. His gaze would drink in the smooth planes of your milky thighs right up to where the fabric ruffled just below the meeting of your thighs. He would ponder whether you a thong girl, a shorts girl, or a bare girl. He really preferred nothing – easier access, but he did like silk and lace because he could tease and ply with his fingers. 

As you would sweat, the colorful fabric would mold and cup your lower back and rear. You had a shapely bottom, one he wanted to caress and spank. Lying on his side, he would have to adjust himself multiple times when thinking about you, watching your tempting body complete tasks he directly supervised. 

But it wasn’t just your body he had enjoyed. It was your mind; when he would ask your opinion on something he was tinkering around with, on shop matters, on any matters. Your quick wit and ability to keep up with him. The shop had felt empty the past few weeks without you.

All you had told him was something else had opened up, a different opportunity. It had felt like you were running away from him. He had wondered if it was something he had done. 

“What brings you here?” you asked. It was so odd to see him out of his shop. It never occurred to you that he must leave it eventually.

“The groom is a friend of mine,” he shrugged, “plus I was promised free food and drink if I came, maybe even a dance?”

“Same,” you answer, the sake cool on your hot lips. “Well, except for the bride is a friend of a friend.”

“Oh, interesting,” Urahara commented. 

Feeling bold, you ask, “Want to dance Urahara-san?” The sake was starting to pleasantly buzz through your veins now. 

“Please, call me Kisuke-kun, since you no longer work for me,” he tells you. He sets your cups down on the bar and takes your hand. 

“Kisuke-kun,” you laugh, testing it out. 

“____ -chan.”

“You’ve always called me ____ -chan,” you say as a large hand comes to rest on your waist. He’s holding your other hand firmly, his fingers encasing your own. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you. You were a sucker for guys with hands big enough to make your own disappear. 

He maneuvered the two of you around, drawing you close the whole time. There were just a few inches separating you now. 

“You know, _____ -chan, you were pretty cute when you used to move those boxes,” Kisuke told you, leaning in, hot breath tickling the shell of your ear so that only you could hear him. 

Hot blush worked its way up your cheeks. Up close, you could smell him, see the faint blonde stubble on his chin. 

“When you would bend over in those summer dresses,” he continued, the hand on your waist moving lower over the fine fabric of your dress. 

“And how you would lay around with your fan,” you teased, snuggling closer into his chest. “Not helping.” You recalled the fair skin of his bared chest when his Shihakusho would fall open, inviting your gaze. The thought had crossed your mind more times than you cared to admit about how he looked without his haori and Shihakusho. “Supervising,” you laughed.

“My policy is never to interrupt an employee’s work,” he told you, wide grin on his face. Those grey eyes sparkled with impending mischief. 

“And what is your policy on cute former employees?” you asked, eyelids heavy with lust. 

His grin disappeared, those grey eyes searching your face. Heat pooled in your belly as he remained solely focused on you. 

He seemed to be making a decision. The two of you had long since stopped dancing to the music. 

“Kiss this one thoroughly,” he whispered, using two long, slender fingers to draw your chin up, settling the height difference between you. 

His lips closed over yours, stubble tickling your face. He moved his head, you automatically adjusting, so that you fitted together perfectly. 

Your lips were soft as he applied more pressure. His tongue traced languidly over your bottom lip, seeking entrance into the hot cavern of your mouth. 

With a soft sigh, you gave him permission, his tongue sliding over yours, massaging. You could faintly taste the sake, lingering from earlier and something sweet. His tongue thrust in and out, plunging deeper each time. You moaned loudly into the kiss, forgetting your surroundings. 

The growing heat in your belly moved lower, becoming an aching tightness in your core, begging to be filled. 

Through the thin material of your dress, you could feel his growing erection. 

When he ended the kiss, you were both panting. You were clutching the lapels of his suit, feeling as if you were going to melt into a puddle. 

His large hands had worked their way down to cup your ass, as he kneaded and squeezed the tender, plump flesh there. 

You felt as if you were burning. 

“What else to do you when it comes to cute former employees?” you asked, the wedding reception forgotten. 

“Things I can’t say here,” he told you, lips curling into a devilish grin. 

“I have a room nearby,” you confess. Your dress, once soft and silky was now hot and scratchy on your skin. You had been forced to book a room when you realized you were filling in. Your hotel was a couple of blocks away. 

“Mine is closer,” he insisted, releasing your ass with a soft sigh, instead leading you off the dance floor. If anyone was looking at the two of you, you didn’t pay them much mind. 

All that mattered right now was his firm, steady grip on your fingers, keeping you grounded to him. 

Kisuke had booked a first-floor room at the same hotel as the venue, deciding it was easier just to roll out of bed and attend the ceremony. Now he was grateful that he wasn’t going to have to go too far with his engorged member testing the fabric of his suit pants. 

The vee of your thighs was damp, you knew, as you pressed the flesh together hungry for some sort of relief. 

Kisuke fumbled with the room key, distracted by you rubbing your curvaceous body against him. You nipped at his earlobe, pulling the soft flesh into your mouth and sucking. Your warm hands were roaming the planes of his body and you moaned. 

He grunted as the door opened, pulling you in behind him. 

As soon as the door closed, he pressed you against it, his mouth on yours, exploring the warm, wet cavern again with his skilled tongue. Your hands, itching for something to do, grabbed fistfuls of his soft locks and tugging him closer to you. He rubbed his slender hips against yours, letting you feel his bulging erection. Your core tightened as your stomach flopped.

Long fingers began letting your hair down as he thrusted his tongue in your mouth, simulating what he wanted to do with his hips as soon as he could rid you of your clothes. Your hairpins clattered to the floor as he let the long curls down around your shoulders. 

“That’s better,” he told you softly before claiming your mouth again. He could smell the lavender and gardenia as he nuzzled your neck. You smelled the faintest cologne, sweat, and something male about him. It was a smell you had grown used to at the store, a smell you had missed. The clinical environment of your new office setting lacked that smell. 

“Mm much,” you moaned. “So would getting out of this dress.” 

“Let me help you ____-chan,” Kisuke said, grey eyes blown dark with unbidden lust. 

He spun you around, long fingers searching for the zipper hidden in the folds of fabric. At this point, you didn’t care if the dress was ripped. You didn’t plan on wearing it again. 

Slowly, he pulled the zipper down, eyes drinking in silken skin, the lace of your undergarments. The dress slipped down your curves, pooling in seafoam waves around your feet. He helped you step of the puddle. 

You had opted for your laciest pair of bra and panties in a pure white, with thigh high stockings with similar lace at the top. Your white T-strap heels pushed your ass up and straightened out your calves and thighs. 

“Beautiful,” he said quietly, admiring the view of tantalizing flesh on display. Your mouth was hot and dry again, blood rushing to your cheeks from his compliment. 

Kisuke traced a long finger around the edge of a cup, fingering the delicate lace. You shivered with pleasure, a small moan escaping your panting mouth. His knuckle brushed over the sensitized bud of your puckered nipple. 

Fingers stroked your velvety sides, tracing your curves from the bottom of your bra down to the waistband of your soaked panties. Each new touch brought a fresh onslaught of liquid to your thighs. You rubbed them together for fleeting relief. 

There were no doubts now where the two of you stood. It seemed that he felt the same way you did, at least for tonight. 

“You still have too many clothes on,” you told him, hungry for his flesh, voice husky with desire. 

“Not to worry,” he said, bringing his hands back to your heaving breasts. He palmed the heavy flesh, fingers pinching and rolling the tender skin. You rolled your head back, sighing and moaning. “We have all night.” 

He loosened his black tie, drew it over his head, and threw it on the bed behind him. Slowly, he drew the suit jacket off and tossed it into a nearby chair. You watched as he undid the top buttons on the green shirt. 

“Come here, _____,” he beckoned, dropping -chan from your name. His voice was quiet but firm, enchanting. As if drawn in by a siren’s call, you moved towards him. 

Slender but strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his body as he kissed you deeply. Your lips were wet, cooling, as he licked the line of your jaw, kissing behind your ear, and began sucking the delicate flesh of your neck down to your exposed collarbone. 

You were panting, little noises slipping past your lips into the heavy air, straight to his swollen cock. Your fingers searched for his zipper, hoping to free him, as he continued licking and kissing your heated, damp flesh. 

“Mm! Kis-uke!” you sighed, his name punctuated by moans, as he unhooked your bra, letting your bosom spill free of the lacy confines. 

Greedily, he popped one tightened bud into his hot mouth, sucking bright color into your rosy nipple. His tongue traced your dusky areola as your head lolled back, his zipper forgotten, as you were sure was his plan. He kneaded and cupped the other substantial breast, each stroke of his fingers sending a direct line of heat to your aching core. 

Your fingers wound in his hair, drawing him closer as he kissed between your breasts and switched to give the other globe attention. 

You didn’t notice when he had laid you on the bed and started kissing a line down your abdomen to the little bow at the top of your waistband. You did notice when he stopped his attentions long enough to tie your hands up and secured them to the headboard. 

“Urahara-san,” you blurted, reverting to your old habit. 

He laughed, finishing unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside to join his discarded coat in the nearby chair. 

From the nearby dresser, you watched as he retrieved something long and kind of flat. His fan?

He knelt between your legs on the bed, caressing and tracing patterns up your inner thighs to encourage you to open for him. 

“I want to taste you Maa~,” he said, lying down on his stomach, your knees propped on his shoulders. Your thighs shook with anticipation. 

One long finger traced your slit through the damp lace of your panties. Your arms pulled against the restraint, back arching hard off the bedspread. Grey eyes looked up at you, as he added another finger, following the first, tracing the growing dampness. 

You thought you might explode if he worked his fingers inside you even a little. Such wanton need had never worked you over like this. He was practiced in drawing pleasure from a woman’s body. You ached, the need to be filled strong. 

Slowly, he removed his fingers, licking the moisture away and smiling. You watched, panting and tight. 

“Mm, exactly what I had imagined and then some,” he told you as he moved the lace aside, dipping a finger into your slit, opening your dewy folds. “Like the rarest flower,” he whispered, watching as the dusky flesh darkened the further you opened for him. 

The same long finger followed the liquid, dipping into the velvety petals to collect your nectar. Lazily, his thumb flicked over the bundle of nerves, eliciting throaty moans from you. He stuck the finger in his mouth and sucked, throat working, as he teased the last of your juices from his digit. 

“Ki-su-ke,” you moaned, drawing his name out, watching him until you couldn’t stand it, your back arching off the bed again. 

Grinning, he slipped one finger inside your wet tightness, feeling your walls flutter and grip, trying to pull his finger deeper. Slowly, he dragged the finger out and slipped it back in, feeling each and every pulse of your body readying itself for him. 

“Gods!” you screamed, needing more contact. You were covered in a fine sheen of sweat from your exertions. 

Kisuke was patient, having wanted this to happen for probably longer than you. His cock twitched, but he ignored it as he added a second finger to your tight heat, watching as you sucked him in with a little squelch. He curved his fingers into a ‘come here’ motion, feeling that spongy area inside that unleashed moans and cries of pleasure from you. 

His fingers thrust in and out of you, touching that spot that sent you into overdrive. You wiggled and cried out for him. No one had managed to find that spot with their fingers and only a few times with a cock. It was like he knew what made your body tick. 

When you thought you couldn’t take any more, Kisuke withdrew his fingers and lapped at the liquid, grey eyes sharp and focused. You watched, arms sore from straining against the tie. 

He kissed the inside of your thighs, working toward that damp heat again. His skilled tongue darted out and laved attention to your folds, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs to hold you still. You could appreciate the strength of his slenderly muscled shoulders as he kept your knees propped open. 

He wouldn’t say you tasted sweet exactly, but clean and a little salty. There was something heady about the volume of the liquid you seemed capable of producing for him, with its feminine notes that he hungry drank in.

Kisuke closed his mouth on your folds, sucking voraciously alternating his tongue thrusting into your hot core. He felt your walls tremor around the muscle and knew you were close. But there was something more he had to do. 

From the edge of the bed, he retrieved his fan, after reluctantly pulling his mouth away. If you hadn’t been so worked up, you would have laughed. That damn fan, usually in front of his handsome shadowed face. 

He pulled the moistened underwear off and tossed them across the room. 

With a snap, Kisuke opened the paper and wood, fanning the cooling liquid of his ministrations. You couldn’t close your legs to seek fulfilling relief. That damn fan, blowing tantalizing cool relief to your flushed and ravished skin. 

He alternated between sucking and fanning you for a few moments longer. 

“Ki-su..” you moaned, unable to finish his name, as your orgasm unfurled in the pit of your stomach, rolling over you in a hot daze, as your core clenched around nothing. Only partially satisfied, Kisuke watched you come undone, holding your thighs tight, almost bruising. 

When your orgasm subsided, Kisuke released the tie, rubbing and working your arms back to your sides. He placed gentle kisses from your mons up to your neck and finally your lips. 

As he lay beside you, you reached a palm out, searching for the bulge in his pants.

“Rest ____,” he told you softly, kissing up your neck and nuzzling in your hair. But you were still burning for your fulfillment and you knew he was too. 

Kisuke didn’t stop you as you palmed the hot, heavy member through the unforgiving fabric of his trousers. Instead, he closed his eyes and panted a little as you continued. 

You slipped the zipper down and freed his erection, feeling the rock-hard satin flesh. You pumped him a few times, feeling pre-cum drying on your fingers. 

Rolling over, ignoring the jelly-like feeling of your limbs, you licked the main vein from the base to the helmet, slowly closing your mouth over the head. 

It was Kisuke’s turn to moan as the blistering hollow of your mouth closed around his manhood. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, wrapping your fingers around the base and pumping. 

You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled back, sucking not unlike a popsicle. You laved attention to his slit where more pre-cum had rushed out when you took him, salty and a little bitter, but his taste. 

Those long fingers wound in your soft hair, pulling you back down to take him again. His slim hips snapped up from the bed spread as he groaned. You wrapped your fingers a little tighter around the base and continued pulling him, swirling your tongue around his head then up and down his thick shaft, bringing your hand up to meet your mouth. 

“___, if you continue,” he panted, blonde hair sticking to his face and all around his head where it had rubbed on the pillows, “I’m going to cum.” 

“Please do,” you told him saucily, after you had pulled away from his cock with a little ‘pop.’ Your fingers had continued to stroke him. 

You noticed the fan lying abandoned to his side. You grabbed it, flicked it open as he had, and waved it over his swelled, darkened penis. “Mmm, ______,” he murmured, arm over his eyes, his hips bucking up again. 

His penis twitched as you took it into your mouth once more, ravenously sucking and pumping faster. You couldn’t get enough of his salty flesh, his little noises, his long fingers tangled in your curled hair. 

“___,” he grunted your name. You felt his cock twitch on your tongue and a moment later the salty, bitter liquid filled your mouth and slid down your throat. His grey eyes were laser focused on watching you consume his seed, watching the bobbing movement of your throat as you drank the last down. 

Kisuke pulled your mouth from around his spent cock, pulling you up his body to capture your mouth again. He could taste himself, mixed with your earlier juices for an exotic natural cocktail. 

He kissed you hungrily, holding your face in his hands, your bodies molded together in a sweaty tangle. Already, as his tongue thrust into your mouth again, you could feel his erection anew against your thigh. The man had stamina, you had to hand it to him. 

“____, I have condoms,” Kisuke told you seriously, not relinquishing his hold on your face. Gods knew that he would use them if you wanted; it wouldn’t be nearly as good as being sheathed inside of your heat, feeling all the nuances of your body from the inside out. But he wanted you to be comfortable. 

“I want to feel you, Kisuke,” you told him. “And this is not just the lust talking,” you added, seeing his look of concern. “I want you to fill me up.” Your fingers found the hard planes of his chest, exploring with gentle touches where your breasts weren’t pressed against. 

He looked torn between wanting to believe you and wanting to make sure that the desire had not gone to your head, so that you would have no regrets when you were both sated. 

“I’m on the pill,” you added, giving him a gentle kiss. 

Kisuke needed no further encouragement. He rolled you over so that you were lying among the bedcovers. He rose and pushed his pants down his muscular thighs to pool on the floor with his underpants. 

He felt the heat behind your gaze as your eyes wandered over his fair flesh, your hands gently kneading your breasts. Kisuke knew that he would never get tired of you in his bed, that he wanted so much more than this night with you. But that was something that could be worked out afterwards. 

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to part your thighs and drive himself to the hilt inside of your pulsating core as many times as possible before you both burst. 

Slowly, you opened your legs for him again, watching him crawl forward on the bed to come rest between them. Using one hand, he rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds, coating himself in your lubricant. 

“Mmm, please Kisuke,” you whispered. You didn’t think you could take any more teasing now. 

“As you wish princess,” he tells you, slowly parting your lower lips and slipping the head inside. You gasped at the unexpected heat and weight. He continued to slide inside of your searing channel, feeling your walls flutter and move to accommodate his girth. 

You gasp as he slides home; no one had filled you like this. Kisuke stared down at you, grey eyes searching your face for any discomfort, blond hair rumpled from moments before. 

You smile, drawing him down for a languid kiss, tongues massaging, wrapping your legs around his lower back in encouragement. 

Keeping his arms propped up on either side of your head, he slides back out and plunges back in with one stroke, his manhood stoking the burning fire in your core. You stomach flip-flopped pleasantly with sensation. You moan, arching your back and presenting your tantalizing breasts. 

His lips find a nipple and give a quick suck, eliciting nearly a howl from you. Between his cock and his lips, you are certain that you’re going to disintegrate. You grip fistfuls of the bedspread to keep you grounded.

Kisuke wanted to continue with his languid pace of rhythmically thrusting hard into you with each snap of his hips, but he knew he wasn’t going to last long. One look at your sweat sheened face and he knew you weren’t going to either. 

“Ki-su-ke,” you moaned, drawing out each syllable of his name with his quick thrusts. His back arched as he drove further into you. He drew one of your legs up to his shoulders to get a deeper angle, needing to feel more of your channel engulfing him. 

You felt him brush your cervix with his next thrusts, your feet arching with the movement. He continued to sink into your heat in a frenzied pace. 

“Come for me,” Kisuke said through gritted teeth, trying to stave off his own undoing. Each stroke was torture. You were vocal with your pleasure. Neither of you cared if the rooms on either side of you could hear the sounds issuing forth or not. “___, come!”

“Ah! Ah! Kisuke,” you howled as the cord of pleasure beneath your belly broke, your walls fluttering and gripping his length, drawing him deeper with your undoing. You gripped his free forearm and the bedspread.

Kisuke knew this was it, the way your body gripped him, ripped his own release too quickly from him. He yelled your name as his back arched, ready.

Hazily, you felt him thrust unevenly into a few more times before the hot rush of his release filled you. Weakly, his thrust another time or two and stopped, panting, staring down at you and whispering your name. Your fine sheen of sweat was now like a second skin as he dripped down onto you.

Gently, he let your leg down onto the bed again and lay over you, head resting between your breasts. You combed his sweaty hair away from his grey eyes, feeling your body sinking into a languid sleep that you had not felt probably ever. No other lovers had come this close. 

“You’re lovely, ____,” he said, his voice heavy with sleep. 

“You too Kisuke,” you said, your eyelids weighted with lead. 

He rolled off of you and drew you to his bared chest, wrapping you in the circle of his strong arms, nuzzling in your hair as you both drifted towards sleep. 

“Come back to the shop, ______?” he asked. “I’ve missed you.”

“Sure,” you told him, yawning. “I’ve missed you too.” 


	2. Cifer Ulquiorra x Jaegerjaques Grimmjow x Reader – You Are Mine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settle in; this is a long one - over 6,000 words. Answer to a request. Very NSFW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Ulquiorra please getting jealous of Grimmjow but NSFW.  
> Hope this was what you were looking for! AU – College setting, but still maintain some Arrancar appearances.

Ulquiorra couldn’t ignore the large well of jealousy settling in his stomach when he caught you and Grimmjow on the common couch of the shared flat. 

His roommate had one large, strong hand around the curve of your ass, the other had gathered your soft locks away from your face in a fisted ponytail. You were straddling his lap, undulating your hips forward over the obvious bulge as Grimm kissed you senseless. Your fingers even dug into his broad shoulders, to keep yourself steady.

Everyone on campus knew that you were Jaegerjaques’; the man had practically branded you with blatant hickeys for everyone to see. 

And yet, Ulquiorra was jealous. 

The first time Grimmjow had brought you home, it had been impossible to ignore you.

Usually, Ulquiorra was indifferent to the dates Grimm paraded around, but you were different, special. 

You were curvaceous with long, thick hair, lightly muscled in all the right areas. You didn’t flaunt your good looks either. 

But it was your ability to keep up with Grimm, a feat in and of itself. You were the opposite of him – polite, respectful, tactful, smart. 

And yet, you fit together so well. 

Ulquiorra couldn’t ignore the growing bulge as he stood in the doorway, newly returned from the student union, listening to your little pants and breathy moans as Grimmjow ravaged every inch of available flesh with his full lips and sharp teeth. 

The girls on this campus were not for Ulquiorra; they were more interested in the vapid and shallow topics of reality television and celebrities, concerned with their appearances, and attaining materialistic lifestyles. He considered them trash, not even worth his time.

But not you; you studied hard, despite Grimmjow’s near constant distractions and you were more interested in current events, the arts, novels. You were near top in all of your classes.

In conversations, Ulquiorra liked picking your brain in a way that gave him selfish satisfaction because he knew Grimmjow couldn’t keep up. It was like high school all over again; the jock gets the pretty girl. 

To call Grimm stupid would have been disrespectful; his roommate was smart, but in a completely different way. A physical way that Ulquiorra didn’t consider important.

Grimmjow may have had your body, but, Ulquiorra reflected, he didn’t have all of your mind. There were times when Ulquiorra knew that your boyfriend sometimes got on your nerves. He could see it in the fine lines around your mouth when you sometimes frowned at something Grimmjow had done to piss you off.

“Take a fucking picture,” Grimmjow growled from your neck, catching sight of Ulquiorra staring. There was that blunt, say-the-first-thing-on-your-mind attitude he had come to expect and despise from his roommate. 

“Tch,” Ulquiorra rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. He hoped he could make it back to his room quickly, even with his erection slightly impeding his normal movement. 

“Wait a sec,” you said, pulling away from Grimmjow and standing up. Your skin was flushed from Grimm’s ministrations and Ulquiorra found the sight went straight to his groin.

Grimmjow was spread out, limbs cast carelessly on the furniture, erection obvious under his jeans where anyone could see. He had no pride.

You glanced back at Grimmjow’s face, giving him an almost imperceptible nod, before you moved around the couch to block Ulquiorra’s path. This had been decided well in advance.

While you liked your boyfriend, there was something about his roommate that you couldn’t shake. You had noticed the way he watched you, even when you weren’t with Grimm. He liked you. 

Ulquiorra could be cold and unfriendly, but you never had any trouble drawing him into conversation. You had so much in common and he was easier to talk to than Grimmjow, who tended to be more physical. A few weeks before, you had told him that you wanted to include his roommate in the physical part of your relationship. 

You wanted to know how far Ulquiorra’s feelings went for you, how much he desired to act on the impulses you were sure he possessed. You knew he could be somewhat demanding, and you wanted to know how that translated into the bedroom.

_“Che,” Grimmjow had said, running a hand through his blue hair. “What for?” he grumbled._

_“Because I like him too,” you told Grimm honestly. Even if your boyfriend didn’t like the subject, he could appreciate you being up front with him. Ulquiorra and Grimm fought over everything; they were so different. But you had a feeling that having both of them would complete you, because there were aspects of both men you liked._

_“Besides,” you said, whispering in Grimm’s ear, “I want to know what its like being taken by two men at the same time.”_

_That had been all the convincing Grimmjow had needed._

_“Only, if I get to fuck you first,” Grimm had told you._

“What?” Ulquiorra asked coldly, wondering what you had in mind with that nod to your boyfriend. 

“Join us,” you said, huskily. You moved a few steps forward, not touching him yet but close.

At this distance, he could see your eyes were blown dark with unchecked lust. His erection was growing painful now. He ached to retreat to his room, where he could safely fantasize about you as he stroked his rock-hard member to completion. 

“Join you?” he asked, making sure he had heard correctly, that it wasn’t just a lack of blood running properly to his brain. 

Ulquiorra risked a glance at Grimmjow; the blue-haired beast was watching both of you, grinning wildly. 

“Yes,” you said, your voice soft, seductive, no more than a purr. “I _want_ you to join us,” you confessed. 

Ulquiorra knew it was impossible to avoid the two of you when you were here at the apartment, and you were here more often than Grimm was at your flat. He figured it was a matter of territory with Grimm’s more primal instincts. 

It was impossible to block out the noises in this small a space. More often than he liked to admit, Ulquiorra had imagined being able to get his hands on you, to be the cause of those sighs, those wanton moans, your heaving breast, your torn screams when you finally surrendered to your undoing. 

To be able to show Grimmjow that it wasn’t just about possessing your body, but about possessing your mind as well. 

“Why?” Ulquiorra asked. He was naturally suspicious, especially where Grimmjow was concerned. The other man never went out of his way to do anything nice. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me Ulquiorra-kun,” you smiled. “It’s no secret that you’re not interested in any of the girls on campus.” 

Ulquiorra let a quick grin wipe across his dark lips, deep green eyes boring into your own. He expected no less from you. 

_His_ kind of woman, who just happened to have terrible taste in other men. 

“What makes you think I’ll agree?”

“This,” you told him, reaching out to palm the still present bulge in his pants. He kept a tight reign over his expression, eyes watching yours, but you both knew it was getting difficult the more you touched him. 

Ulquiorra quickly weighed his options. Spending the hour or better, alone, in his room or worshipping Grimmjow’s girl, right in front of him, showing him how it should be done? 

The answer was obvious. 

Ulquiorra gripped your soft cheeks, pulling you to his mouth. He was more demanding than you initially thought, as he stroked his tongue across your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth to him. 

“Mmmf,” you moaned as his tongue slid into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. His tongue explored all the soft crevices. 

Automatically, you stopped palming him and tangled your fingers in his short, soft black hair. He was a little taller than you, not quite as tall as Grimm, but was similarly slenderly muscled and strong. 

His long, pale fingers threaded into your hair, keeping you pressed flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. His tongue massaged yours as he thrust it in and out of your mouth. 

He was different than kissing Grimmjow who tended to be more lips and teeth, he was more sensual but equally demanding. 

You felt a strong, hard pair of arms wrap around your waist, teeth grazing your neck. 

“Mmmm,” you moaned into the kiss again. Liquid heat pooled behind your belly button as you shivered, arching your back slightly against the hard planes of Grimmjow’s chest. 

Ulquiorra broke the kiss when he felt Grimmjow running his hands over your quivering abdomen. 

His pale fingers kept black with nail polish massaged your scalp as he studied his handiwork. You were panting, eyes dark. Ulquiorra felt a little surge that made his cock twitch; he had caused this reaction.

Ulquiorra used one hand to grip your chin, the other coming down to cup one of your breasts through your thin top. He maintained eye contact, watching your eyes glaze as he pinched your nipple. He wanted more, so much more. 

This wasn’t just about competing with Grimmjow on how best to make love to a woman, this was about taking something for himself.

Grimmjow had settled for sliding one of his hands under your waistband, the other gathering your hair out of the way so he could suck on your neck. 

“Fuck baby,” Grimmjow growled into your skin. His chest rumbled against your back. “You’re fucking soaked.” Grimm’s calloused fingers pinched and rolled your clit, alternating with rubbing between your dripping slit. 

“Mmm, Grimm,” you moaned, rocking against him. Not leaving Ulquiorra out, you moaned his name too.

When Ulquiorra heard his name tumble from your swollen and bruised lips, his cock ached with the need to be touched, to be buried to the hilt in your tight, wet channel. 

You were burning from within, pressed between men, them playing your body like an instrument. You could feel the gushing heat between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together to trap Grimm’s hand and provide you with some relief. 

He addressed Ulquiorra, “Che, take a look at her tits without the shirt.” 

“Tch,” Ulquiorra grunted. He didn’t want to do something because Grimmjow told him, but he did want to see your breasts in more than just a glimpse of you leaning over to retrieve something or with Grimm’s hands on them. 

He could see your hands moving to lift your shirt over your head, but he grabbed your wrists, stilling the movement. Your eyes were wide with questions. Ulquiorra pressed his lips to yours quickly, answering the best way he knew how. 

Instead, he worked his nimble fingers beneath the hem, knuckles grazing the silken skin of your abdomen. You fluttered against his fingers as he rucked the top up, hands raking over your sides as the shirt revealed your lacy bra. 

Grimmjow released your hair so that you could get your arms and head free, Ulquiorra throwing the top on the floor. 

His eyes expanded as he drank in the light skin just barely restrained in the feathered lace cups. The light jade fabric complimented your coloring, your dusky areolas and nipples teasing through the sheer fabric. A fine sheen of sweat covered your collarbone, working down to the valley of your voluptuous breasts. 

With a deft movement, Grimmjow unhooked your bra and ripped it down your arms, throwing it wherever your shirt had gone. Your breasts bounced slightly with the movement. Ulquiorra followed them, intensely focused on your tight buds, the swell of your bosom.

Ulquiorra unconsciously licked his lips as he drank you in. You started to caress and push the soft globes towards him, but Grimmjow laced his free arm through your elbows, pulling you firmly against his chest, keeping you pinned. His other hand was still manipulating your wet folds and clit. 

You had no idea if he did it for the other man’s benefit or out of sheer possessiveness, but at this point you didn’t want to waste much energy figuring it out. 

You didn’t expect the firm slap Ulquiorra gave the side of your right breast. You cried out, back arching as Grimm laughed manically. 

There wasn’t much time to be incensed, because Ulquiorra wrapped his dark lips around your pert bud, hungrily sucking the nipple and your areola into his mouth. He could taste just the barest hint of sweat, smell the subtle hints of your lavender soap. He worked the tender flesh with his lips, tongue, and teeth. 

“Ah! Ulqui-orra,” you moaned, head falling back against Grimm’s chest. 

For the first time, he truly smiled as he pulled away from your breast with a soft ‘pop’ of his mouth. He didn’t say anything as he slapped your other breast, soothing it in the same way with his greedy sucking, lips, teeth, and tongue. 

Sometimes Grimm would bend you over and slap your ass, but nothing quite like this. Who knew that behind Ulquiorra’s cool, calm demeanor lurked such a kinky bastard?

“Mmm fuck,” Grimmjow murmured softly against your neck as he nipped the delicate skin there, “we should have done this way before now, if I’d known this was the response we would get.” He could feel the rush of your juices as your body clenched around nothing, craving fulfillment. 

Your hips bucked as Grimmjow sank one calloused finger into your heat, your walls fluttering and pulsing around the digit. 

“Ah, mmm,” you moaned, as Ulquiorra slapped your breasts several times, reddening the unblemished flesh of your silken globes. His dark lips twisted with pleasure as he watched you squirm.

When the flesh was sufficiently colored, he would blow cool air across the puckered buds before taking one in his mouth again. 

All you could do was pant and moan, unable to form either man’s name properly. Grimm added a second finger to your hot channel, scissoring and thrusting in turns. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling liquid gather at the corners. 

This was surreal. You had imagined being taken by both men for weeks now, but this didn’t compare. An orgasm was brewing in the slow, unwinding coil behind your belly button. You wanted to hold on for just a little bit longer. 

Your breasts ached and stung, but most of all they flushed with the attention. 

Ulquiorra, sensing that you had finally had enough, stopped his ministrations, one hand gripping the long column of your throat, the other collecting and fisting your hair into a ponytail as he lay claim to your mouth again. 

Grimmjow added a third finger, fully stretching you, making you moan into Ulquiorra’s hot mouth. The tight coil behind your belly button unwound as your walls fluttered unevenly around Grimm’s fingers, the ribbed muscles clenching and trying to suck the skin off the digits. 

You moaned into Ulquiorra’s searing kiss, pressing as much of your body against him as you could muster, despite Grimm’s hold. 

“Gods,” you panted as Ulquiorra released your mouth. You had never had a release like that, and no one had even fully penetrated you yet. 

Ulquiorra’s strong hand pulled your head back by your hair, exposing more of your throat. He kissed every available inch of skin, sucking the flesh and scattering his own marks down the slender column. 

Grimmjow released your arms in favor of pushing your pants and panties down your wide hips to the floor. 

You stepped away from both men, trying to catch your breath. Your legs felt like quivering goo. 

Even though Grimm had seen you naked probably a hundred times, he never got tired of caressing your form with his blue eyes. He loved the way your body fit together; wide hips, slender waist, toned and flat abdomen, soft handfuls of bosom. 

Grimmjow knew that in some ways you were too good for the rough likes of him. But he was glad that you liked him. He would do anything to keep you happy, even let Ulquiorra have a taste of you. He knew that in some ways, Ulquiorra had things you needed, that you had things Ulquiorra needed. But Grimm needed you too. 

He glanced over at his troublesome roommate, noting how those emerald eyes were raking over your body, drinking in your milky flesh on display, his mouth hanging open. Grimm didn’t know how much experience Ulquiorra had, but it seemed more than enough.

Grimm liked to spank you, but that was nothing compared to the abuse Ulquiorra had subjected your breasts to a few moments ago. And you ate it up. He filed the information away for later.

“Shall we continue in the bedroom?” you asked, voice strained with want. 

Both men nodded, following you to Grimmjow’s section of the apartment. His room was little more than a bed with some clothes carelessly tossed around, his books stacked up by the door. You were used to it, but you could see Ulquiorra’s frown. 

You stifled a laugh as you lay down on the bed, relief flooding through your limbs. You splayed your legs, giving both of them a view of your moist center. You used your fingers to part the glistening lips, mapping each fold and crevice for them before sticking your fingers deep in your mouth and sucking. 

Grimm growled, shedding his clothing and crawling up the side of the bed. His erection was hot and heavy against your outer thigh as he spread out beside you. He would let his roommate have first taste of your sweet juices.

Ulquiorra hung back for a moment, waiting to see what Grimmjow was going to do. Catching his gaze, you beckoned him with a crooked finger, rubbing your thighs. 

“Please come taste,” you told Ulquiorra. You mapped the folds of your pussy again for him, once more sticking your fingers in your mouth, thrusting them in and out for his benefit. 

Ulquiorra began shedding his clothing as well, keeping his cool gaze trained on you. Grimmjow was licking your neck and palming one of your breasts as he took his penis in one fist, stroking. 

He licked his lips, suddenly thirsting. Your mons and thighs were coated in your nectar, going to waste if he didn’t get in there. 

You had never seen Ulquiorra naked. He was pale, like the purest marble or a winter moon. His long torso was finely muscled, not hard carved like Grimm, but sinewy. Ulquiorra was slender but the length and girth of his cock surprised you. He was happy with what he was seeing. You would still need stretching, like you did with Grimmjow to accommodate Ulquiorra. 

Meeting your gaze, Ulquiorra smirked and fisted his own hardened member, giving himself a few pumps before he crawled between your legs. 

Ulquiorra lay on his stomach, grabbing your knees to kiss and suck the smooth flesh of your inner thighs. His fingers sunk into the muscles, little points of bruises as he gripped you to keep your legs steady. You moaned and cried a little, hips trying to arch off the bed. 

Grimmjow growled into your breast as he used one large hand to put your hips back down. He busied himself licking and kissing your succulent breasts where Ulquiorra had slapped them. The flesh was so sensitive. You knew you were going to feel it tomorrow, maybe even a few days.

You hissed as Ulquiorra sucked a mouthful of thigh, near your femoral artery, into his mouth and was voracious. He wanted to leave the first marks of the night on your thighs. When he pulled away, he was pleased to see the tissue was red and purple. He blew lightly on the area, giving it a kiss and moving further up your trembling thighs. 

He continued his trail of licking and nipping right up to the apex of your thighs. The closer he got, the breathier your moans became. 

“Nnng,” you squeaked as he tentatively licked your slit. Those deep green eyes peered up at you from between your legs. “Please,” you begged, not sure if you wanted him to start or stop. 

“Beg,” Ulquiorra said calmly, lazily manipulating your folds with a knuckle. He brushed over the bundle of nerves, feeling you twitch and gush. 

“Please Ulqui-orra,” you panted, “please put your mouth down there.”

“Be specific,” Ulquiorra told you, lightening his pressure. “I know you can.” He had heard the dirty things you said when you were with Grimmjow. 

“I want you to, nnng, please put your mouth on my pussy, Ulqui-orra,” you moaned. “I want you to make me come again.” 

“Good girl,” Ulquiorra said, rewarding you with more pressure from his fingers. He breathed in your heady scent before pressing his dark lips to your folds. His tongue darted out, giving you a languid lick, your juices collecting in his mouth. 

You were salty and sweet, just like he had imagined. He savored the taste, blowing gently on your heated folds, watching you squirm under Grimmjow’s strong arm thrown across your abdomen. 

“Ah, mmmm,” you moaned, closing your eyes. His mouth was sinful. 

Ulquiorra moved back in, charting your folds with his tongue, sucking and pulling your clit, feeling you try to trap his head there with your thighs. He could feel your juices dribbling down his chin. 

You threaded your fingers in his feathery black hair again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you tried to find purchase. You tried to pull his head further in. 

Ulquiorra indulged you for a few moments, sliding his hot tongue into your waiting channel. The ribbed muscles fluttered and squeezed as he searched for your most sensitive spots. 

He wrenched his head away, releasing one thigh. Ulquiorra pushed himself up on the bed, resting his head on your opposite thigh. He calmly watched you writhe at the loss of contact. Coolly, he slapped the outside of your pussy with an open hand. 

Surprised, you cried out, trying to wriggle out of Grimmjow’s grasp. 

Ulquiorra slapped the outside again, following his movement up by rubbing your folds and mons vigorously. 

“You like that?” he asked, watching your expression, making sure he hadn’t overstepped his bounds. 

“Yes! Gods, yes!” you panted. 

Grimmjow stopped sucking one of your pert nipples to study your face. Your head was thrown back in the pillow, upper back trying to arch off the bed. He had seen you in the throes of passion many times, but this was somehow different. 

Ulquiorra continued his onslaught, slipping two fingers in your slick channel, thrusting them energetically for a few strokes before withdrawing and slapping your pussy again. 

“Fuck, Ulquiorra!” you screamed, hips coming up off the bedspread despite Grimmjow’s heavy weight. 

“Tell me you want me to make you come,” Ulquiorra demanded, withdrawing all contact. 

“I want, you to make me come,” you panted, voice husky from screaming and moaning. 

“Tell me again with my name,” Ulquiorra told you, giving your pussy another firm slap. 

“Ulquiorra, I want you to make me come,” you said, head hazy from the constant ministrations of both men. 

Grimmjow, not wanting to be left out, grasped your chin and cheeks in one hand, laying claim to your mouth again. He pinched and rolled the nearest nipple. 

Ulquiorra moved his mouth back down to your folds, sucking as he pumped his long, slender fingers inside of you. He rolled his wrist, feeling each and every dip of your walls, searching for that hard, spongy area he knew would bring your release. He crooked his fingers, manipulating the spot as he sucked hard on your clit. 

You tore your mouth away from Grimmjow, screaming Ulquiorra’s name as your orgasm rolled through you. You grabbed fistfuls of the familiar bedspread, grounding yourself as wave after wave of pleasure spiked through your body. 

Ulquiorra continued lapping at your sweet nectar as he watched the remnants of your orgasm roll away. He removed his hand with a little ‘squelch,’ watching your flushed face, your glazed eyes. His rock-hard member had only a little relief from being pressed in the bedspread. He stroked himself, watching you relax. 

“Switch,” Grimmjow said as he rolled off the bed. 

“Tch,” Ulquiorra responded, but moved. 

“I’ll fuck her first,” Grimmjow growled, palming his fully erect penis, stroking the silken flesh and smearing the pre-come down the shaft. “Then you can do what you want with her.” 

Ulquiorra frowned. He knew what Grimmjow meant, that he had to claim you first, but it was one more of those stupid things that got on his nerves. 

“Fine,” Ulquiorra acquiesced, moving to spread himself out beside you. He didn’t want to cause friction and ruin the night. 

You were panting, covered in a second skin of sweat now. Your fingers reached out, gripping Ulquiorra’s forearm as you pulled him to you. His body was cool compared to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him down for a smoldering kiss. 

“Babe,” Grimmjow said as he knelt between your thighs, grabbing them roughly and pressing them open further. He lifted your hips, resting them on his muscular thighs. One hand pulled and stroked his cock as he readied himself. 

In one quick stroke, Grimmjow was buried in your tight heat, right up to the hilt. He threw his head back and moaned as he pulled your body closer, wrapping your thighs and calves around his waist. He knew that you needed to be filled, not teased anymore right now. 

You always enjoyed his thick girth, the way he plunged into without much pretense. Your stomach flopped pleasantly. You moaned into Ulquiorra’s mouth. 

Ulquiorra kissed a sloppy trail from your lips and chin, down your neck, as Grimmjow pulled out and thrust into your again, keeping your hips lifted off the bed. 

You slid a hand down Ulquiorra’s body, feeling each dip and curve, reaching for his member to give him some relief until he could sheathe himself inside of you too. You swiped the pre-come from his slit as you gripped the base, rolled your wrist, and stroked him, emulating Grimmjow’s thrusts. 

Ulquiorra couldn’t stop the soft sigh and moan, his eyes fluttering closed as you pleasured him. 

Grimmjow grimaced and growled as he pounded into your tight channel. Your walls stroked and suctioned his cock as he thrust in each time. He loved being inside you, claiming you. 

“Fuck babe, you are so tight and wet around my cock,” Grimmjow panted as he gripped your abdomen, snapping his hips into you roughly. 

“Mmm Grimmjow,” you moaned, biting your bottom lip. “You fuck me so good,” you encouraged. 

Beside you, Ulquiorra felt the tight cord of pleasure stretching inside. 

You looked at his normally pale face, now flushed with rosy color from hedonism and exertion. You wondered if he would appreciate you sucking him for some relief. 

“Mmmm Ulquiorra, do you want to put that cock in my mouth?” you asked, breathlessly. “Ah, yes, yes yes!” you moaned as Grimmjow slightly changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot Ulquiorra had hit earlier. 

“Yes,” Ulquiorra panted, “I want you take me in your mouth.” You released his member, to let him positing himself on his knees, his hot, hefty manhood in your face. 

Ulquiorra grasped a handful of your hair, bringing your mouth closer. You closed your hot, moist mouth over his head, using your tongue to swipe the underside. His penis twitched in your mouth with the movement. He tightened his grip on your hair, possessive but not painful as he slid your mouth further down his rock-hard shaft. 

Your tongue laved attention to the vein running underneath his pale shaft, lips sliding down the silken flesh to the base. You were close to choking, a gush of liquid coating him as he slid you back to the tip. 

“Take it all,” Ulquiorra grunted as he maneuvered you down his shaft again, picking up the pace. He filled your mouth, a little bitter, a little salty, but heated. His taste was different from Grimmjow, unique. 

Grimmjow had slowed his frantic pace, but was still bucking his hips into yours, filling you to the hilt with his member. Ulquiorra set a rhythmic pace to mirror Grimmjow, so that you were stuffed from both ends. 

Grimmjow’s cock brushed your cervix as he sped up his pace again, grunting and moaning. You moaned around Ulquiorra’s shaft as he brushed the back of your throat, bucking his hips into your face. He pushed your hands away when you tried to stroke the parts left bare by your mouth. 

As much as Grimmjow wanted to continue, he felt the strains of his orgasm unravelling behind his stomach. His muscles tensed and his thrusts became sloppy. 

Ulquiorra was facing the same problem, the coil behind his stomach starting to unwrap as you sucked and moaned around him. 

Grimmjow felt your walls pulse and flutter around him, sucking his member as far into your body as it would go, gripping him like a vise. He could hear your choked moan as you came. Grimmjow’s cock twitched and he felt his seed blistering your tight channel, coating his penis and your walls. 

Weakly, he gave you a few more thrusts and withdrew, patting your lower lips with his spent member. 

When Ulquiorra felt your moans, the coil snapped, and his release hastened. He kept your head pulled as far down on him as possible, his seed coating your tongue and the back of your throat. 

“Take it all,” he demanded, moving your lips up and down his shaft a few times. He felt you hesitate and then swallow, drinking him up. You made little sounds as you cleaned his member with your tongue. 

His release tasted different, hot and bitter, as it rushed down your throat. Liquid pricked your eyes as he finally released you. This was like nothing you could have imagined. You wiped your lips, sucking your fingers to clean the last away. 

Ulquiorra gazed down at you as he stroked his half-hard member back to life. 

“Gods,” you whispered, letting your muscles relax for a moment. You were definitely going to feel this in the morning. 

Grimmjow was standing, panting, his blue hair a sweaty mess, sticking to his face and neck. Those icy blue eyes watched avidly as you stroked your abdomen, moving down towards your folds. Ulquiorra moved off the bed to stand beside him, now a pair of green eyes watching you. 

This was the only time you believed you had seen them getting along, all because they both wanted you. 

You teased your folds open, swirling Grimmjow’s release with your own, as you inserted two of your fingers, thrusting gently a few times. Under their careful watch, you licked the tantalizing mix of your sweet nectar with Grimmjow’s familiar salty release. 

Ulquiorra made his way between your thighs, nudging them open further as Grimmjow moved back to your side, but stretched out, looking every inch the predator. He wanted to observe his roommate’s first time with you. 

While he didn’t exactly relish the thought of Grimmjow’s sloppy seconds with you, he wanted to feel your inner heat wrapped around him. At least he would be the final release for now. 

“You want this, don’t you?” Ulquiorra said as he gave himself a few more strokes. He was as calm and collected as ever, while you were a panting, sticky mess beneath him. You could see his green eyes, now mostly black with lust, so you knew that the effects of the evening were beginning to show through the cracks. 

“Mmm yes, Ulquiorra,” you said, cupping your breasts, the ache between your thighs back and twice as strong. “I want you to fill me up too.” 

He smirked, pressing his head into your folds, pass the tight ring of initial muscles. You were slick and hot, your channel wrapping around him and gripping. He didn’t believe he had felt anything so wonderful. 

He let his head roll back as he moaned, thrusting his hips forward further into your warmth. He understood why Grimmjow wanted you often. You were like a vise, better than his hand could ever be, as he gave you a moment to accommodate to his girth. 

“Ah, ah, yes!” you screamed. He was thicker than Grimmjow, your walls having to stretch to accommodate him. You briefly wondered if it was possible to die of pleasure. 

Tortuously, he dragged his hips back and filled you with another slow stroke. 

“Mmmm, ____,” he said. He pulled your legs up to his chest, straightening them out and securing them with a strong arm as he began to move inside you in long, delicious strokes. 

His method was so different from Grimmjow’s usual approach, but equally fulfilling. You hummed as you fisted the bedspread again, pleasure a familiar coil behind your belly button that was already threatening to unwind. 

“But I think we need a change,” Ulquiorra told you as he let your legs back down and withdrew. 

“Hmm?” you moaned; vision hazy. 

“On your hands and knees,” Ulquiorra demanded, giving your thigh a firm slap. You felt the sting soothe as he rubbed a calloused hand over the spot. 

Grimmjow helped you roll over and get into the position. He slid beneath you, bored from watching, his member rock-hard again and begging for your attentions. 

Ulquiorra spread your cheeks apart and slipped inside your channel with one smooth stroke. Pleasure filled your stomach as the tight coil unwound a little more. 

Pale fingers gripped your hips to the point of bruising as he rutted inside you, watching the muscles of your back work, the curve of your ass where he disappeared within you. Your cries were throaty and nonsensical as he set a harsh rhythm, punctuating his thrusts with firm slaps to your behind. 

Grimmjow guided your head into his lap, one fist holding your hair as the other gripped his hard cock. You wrapped your lips around the head, humming each time Ulquiorra slammed into you. Your movements were jerky as you hollowed your cheeks and worked your tongue. 

“That’s it, babe,” Grimmjow murmured as he buried himself in your hot, wet mouth. “That’s it. Fucking suck me.” He was panting and sweaty, aching for another release. 

Ulquiorra’s grip on your hips tightened to a bruising grip as his cock twitched inside. He was close, but he wanted you to find your release first. 

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice harsh. 

“Mmmmf,” you moaned, mouth full of Grimmjow’s member. 

You were so close, your walls pulsing and aching for release, the heavy feeling in your stomach as the coil continued to unwind. 

“That’s fucking it,” Grimmjow said as his cock twitched. He stroked himself into your mouth a few quick times, his second release unwinding. His familiar taste hit your tongue as he held your head in place, filling your greedy mouth with his seed. The hand that had been holding your hair out of the way now massaged your throat, helping you work his release down. 

With a harsh cry, you tore away from him, the coiled string of your release pulled tight to the breaking point. You arched your back and pushed your hips back into Ulquiorra’s, as your release wrenched through you. 

“Ulqui-orra!” you cried; his name punctuated by your moans. “Yes, yes! Please! Gods!” 

“Nnnng, _______,” he gritted, his own release twitching inside of you, hot seed splashing your walls and coating his member too. He thrust a few more times and stopped, still inside you. 

The three of you were sweaty and breathless. 

Ulquiorra withdrew as Grimmjow slid over on the bed, pulling you down. You had never been so satiated, so boneless. 

Ulquiorra lay down on your other side as the three of you tried to cool off. 

You snuggled in between them, Grimm at your back and Ulquiorra at your front. As Grimmjow wrapped his arms around your waist, Ulquiorra squashed the little flame of jealousy back down. No wonder the man kept you for himself. 

“Mmm, thank you,” you told both of them. Now that you had a taste, there was no way that you could go back to just you and Grimmjow now. You pulled Ulquiorra into your embrace, one arm over his waist, the other curled into his chest.

Ulquiorra looked over the top of your head at Grimmjow. The men made a silent pact that they would work together in future for your pleasure. 


	3. Cifer Ulquiorra x Dom! Reader – Yes, please…-sama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: I hope you don’t mind another Ulquiorra one. In this one it’s jealousy but Grimmjow and reader aren’t in a relationship at all. The reader messes around with everyone especially Ulquiorra who they insist on saying he’s kind of a naive doofus. Like”wait you don’t think emotions are real? Because you can’t see them? You can’t see the air and yet we both know it’s there”. Ulquiorra would feel irritation and wonder why he’s so bothered by them. They come back from hanging out with Grimmjow And he noticed that they smell like him and that’s when he’ll get jealous. I think it’d be cool if reader topped him because they want to show him how it’s done. I would really squeal with joy if they could make him beg a little for something he doesn’t know what it is. I’d really be grateful if you decided to accept the request.  
> Author’s Note: I certainly don’t mind another Ulquiorra story! Here we go! Hope this is what you had in mind!

Ulquiorra had no idea why Aizen-sama would keep someone like you around. You were incredibly annoying, like a female Grimmjow. Green, almost cat-like eyes rolled as you said something lame that infuriated Grimmjow for a moment, before the two of you burst out laughing. 

For as long as Ulquiorra had been part of Aizen’s Arrancars, he had failed to understand you. He might as well have been trying to capture and shape the blowing sand of Hueco Mundo. 

You were always questioning his beliefs, any time the two of you were together, as if his word wasn’t good enough. It was good enough for Aizen-sama. It was enough to drive him crazy. 

Of course, you questioned everyone. It was something about your nature. Perhaps you had not baked long enough when you were a mere hollow. 

And yet, he still found himself often in your and Grimmjow’s company. He couldn’t stand Nnoitra, who was closest in number, Starrk was always gone or sleeping, Harribel – who knew there? He didn’t speak to the others too far below his number. 

You weren’t even an Espada, you were an unclaimed Fraccion. Though, Ulquiorra wondered Grimmjow had never taken you on. 

You were laughing this time at something Grimmjow had said as you parted ways. The three of you had been talking a walk outside around Las Noches. Ulquiorra honestly didn’t know why he wasted his time with the two of you. 

“Bye Grimmjow-kun!” you called as the blue-haired panther left the two of you to find his own entertainment. 

As you waved at the sixth, Ulquiorra could see fresh tears in your white uniform, with wounds in various stages of healing. Probably from where you had been successfully messing with and pissing off other Espada and Fraccion. 

Even during your walk, you and Grimmjow couldn’t resist roughing each other. Ulquiorra didn’t care what the two of you did, but he cared an awful lot when he was brought into your play scuffles. However, he had grown used it and it would be more effort to fight both of you to make it end.

You could be incredibly annoying to everyone, but your target always seemed to be Ulquiorra. 

As you rounded back on the fourth, you noted those green eyes narrowed, probably picking your uniform apart. You thought he would be much better looking if he wasn’t so contrite about everything. 

When Grimmjow called him a “naïve doofus” you had a hard time disagreeing. The fourth Espada had a tendency to label anything he didn’t personally understand “trash.” Ulquiorra tended to stay sequestered in the palace instead of out sharpening his skills and socializing like a lot of the Arrancars. 

Your mouth turned down in a deep frown as you considered him, standing there a few feet away from you. 

“What?” Ulquiorra asked, resuming the walk, pale hands stuffed in his hakama pockets. 

“What do you mean what?” you asked, huffing, running to catch up with him. 

“I hate saying goodbye,” you said. “Don’t you?” You knew it would rile Ulquiorra up. 

“No.”

“You don’t hate anything, do you?” you asked. 

“No. Emotions are for the weak,” he answered, feeling the familiar ache of discomfort in his gut. Without Grimmjow as a buffer between you, he would feel the brunt of your attentions. So troublesome. 

“You’re calling me weak?” you snapped, stepping directly in his path. 

“Yes. You spend too much time with emotions. It’s why you’re still a Fraccion.” Ulquiorra felt a small flame of pride at his cutting evaluation. “If you dropped your emotions, you would have more power.” He tried to side-step you. 

“Everyone has emotions,” you shot back. 

“No, not I.” He stepped in the other direction. You followed. 

“Shut the fuck up!” you said. He grimaced; you spent too much time with Grimmjow, letting his bad habits taint you. “You think emotions aren’t real?”

Ulquiorra stared dispassionately at you. Your cheeks were ruddy, your long hair lose from its confines beneath your ram’s head mask and billowing around you in the ever-present breeze of Hueco Mundo.

“I can’t see them,” Ulquiorra responded.

“Just because you can’t see them, you think they don’t exist?”

He didn’t know your mouth could hang open so far. Your eyes were wide, and your previous humor was gone. 

“Yes. I don’t have them.” 

“Do too,” you shot back, feeling a little like a child. Ugh, he always seemed to rile your blood. Someone needed to teach him a lesson, show him that he did have emotions and desires, just like everyone else. 

“No. It’s why I’m successful.”

“Ulquiorra-kun, we both know that we can’t see the air, but it’s here and real. What about smells? Don’t give me some bullshit about your nose not working now,” you told him passionately. 

Against his will, Ulquiorra opened his mouth in response to your speech. Irritation, hot and absurd, spread through him. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted his sword and engage you or just walk away, as was his usual response. 

This was why you were trouble, always questioning his motives, his habits. 

“You know what everyone says about you?” you asked, not sure why you were stinging too. “That you’re naive, an idiot, a doofus,” you told him hotly, “and I can certainly see why.” 

You spun on your heel and stomped off, resuming your walk. 

Gods, you were annoying, Ulquiorra thought as he started after you. He didn’t know why he was walking after you, some misplaced sense of justice? 

However, no matter how annoying you were, he had never seen you act this way. 

As you entered the palace, you knew Ulquiorra was right behind you. You were cooling off considerably with the exertion of your walk. Why did he have to be so handsome, but so cold? 

Grimmjow was your friend, because the two of you had such similar interests, but there was nothing romantic there. 

But Ulquiorra was different; he was smart, but seemingly unfeeling. If he would just loosen up, you imagined he could be a lot of fun. 

You smiled, lips turning up with a devious idea. Perhaps… Yes. You formed a quick, several phase plan for when you lead him back to your quarters. 

Ulquiorra’s footsteps echoed on the pristine tiles behind you as you moved calmly through the empty halls. Aizen-sama sure valued his space. 

You made the turns to your room, knowing there was no one around. Since you were unattached, you weren’t near any of the Espada’s quarters but had your own small area. 

Ulquiorra didn’t know why he was still following you, now that you were back from the walk. That bothered him. You were an irritation, an annoyance. Following you bothered him and yet he didn’t stop. It was like trying to solve a challenging math problem; where you got tired and wanted to quit, but you couldn’t until it was solved.

Outside of your room, you rounded on him. He had been following so intently that he nearly crashed into you.

“What do you want now Ulquiorra-san?” you asked, getting formal with him. 

He wasn’t expecting that. He also wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmed with how much you smelled like Grimmjow after just a simple walk. 

Something torrid boiled in his stomach at his realization, that he knew what you smelled like and could tell when you were around that beast Grimmjow. Your words about smell were coming back to haunt him. 

With dark pleasure, you watched his expression change from indifference to shock. 

“So, I’ll ask you again, something you want?” you questioned, taking a step towards him. 

Grimmjow’s scent was so strong in his nose it was like the Espada was standing right in front of him. He couldn’t escape it. He burned.

“I want your smell back,” Ulquiorra told you. 

“Not feeling jealous, are you?” you taunted, innocent smile pasted on your lips as you moved closer. He took a step to back up, trying to remember where the other wall was and how close he might be to it. 

“You know, protective, vigilant, of something or someone that belongs to you?” you continued. 

Ulquiorra was aware of the cool surface of the wall behind his back and the heat radiating off your body across his chest. 

“Do I belong to you?” you asked, voice husky with growing excitement as you pressed your curvy body against his. 

Jealous? Ulquiorra let the word roll around in his mind for a moment as he tried to keep his cool demeanor up. Beneath Grimmjow’s smell, he could faintly detect yours, the heady scent of sun-baked gardenias on a night breeze. 

“Do you want me to belong to you?” you asked, your face just centimeters from his. Your usual smell was almost overwhelming. 

Ulquiorra couldn’t respond. A weight was in his chest. He was jealous. He wasn’t immune to emotions as he had previously believed. 

What was worse was that he had let this show in front of you. He might as well have rolled over and presented you with his belly.

Grinning, because you had him exactly where you wanted him, you brushed your lips over his dark upper lip first, then the pale bottom. You pressed your full weight against him for a moment, undulating your abdomen and hips against his. 

Your grin further intensified when you felt the merest twitch of his body responding to yours. You molded your lips over his, applying pressure as you moved your body in a scintillating way you knew males liked. Your tongue darted out, tracing his bottom lip, before pulling it into your mouth and sucking.

When you would play fight with Grimmjow, there were usually a few other Arrancars around, watching. You knew it wasn’t just for the violence you two could manage to inflict against each other. You had experimented with other Fraccion, gauging their responses from your different sexual tactics. 

The twitch became more of a throb against your stomach as you continued deepening the kiss. His lips parted and you took advantage of his shock, massaging his tongue with your own as you wrapped one arm around his neck, the other threading in his soft, black hair. 

As suddenly as you had initiated the contact, you withdrew and headed into your room. 

Ulquiorra stood there, as defeated as if you had run him through with your blade. You might as well have, he reasoned, because you had proved him wrong about his constant concrete thinking. If he couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist, at least until with you. 

You had a good argument about the air. He couldn’t deny the existence of air. Or smell. Or your smell, that shouldn’t be covered up with Grimm’s, that made him burn with a foreign sentiment. 

You stuck your head back into the hallway, a wicked smile on your lips. “Coming?” 

Ulquiorra shuffled into your room as you closed the door behind him. 

His own body had betrayed him. 

In addition to being annoying, you were a temptress, some demon sent to shake his beliefs right to the core. 

And the worst part, he ruminated, as he stood in the center of your quarters, was that he wanted more. He didn’t know what it was that he wanted more of exactly, but he desired it. Were these feelings? Did they have to be so damn complicated? 

You shrugged off your white haori, leaving you in a very skimpy black top that managed to barely restrain your breasts, and threw the garment over a nearby chair. You liked your room, with the huge window overlooking the sand flats, with the light of the moon. 

In one corner, you had a simple futon covered in pillows with exotic patterns. You kept a desk, though you didn’t use it much. There was a bookshelf with a few novels from the World of the Living that had been given to you. You had made a little reading area there with more pillows and rugs. You kept a few light vines around to soften the dark atmosphere with golden light. 

Ulquiorra’s eyes roamed over your space, trying to avoid seeing you out of your haori. He didn’t think he had ever visited your space, though you had been to his. It suited you, exactly what sort of space he would have imagined for you. 

“Have a seat,” you told him, gesturing around the room. Ulquiorra followed the movement of your arm, taking note of your bared fair skin. He could feel those sinewy muscles when you were pressed against him earlier, moving your body. 

He selected the chair with your haori thrown on the back. It lacked arm rests, so he had to settle for placing his hands on his knees for lack of a better place to put them. He felt the futon would have been too easy, too inviting for whatever game you were playing.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, committed to be a good hostess. You always had a small supply of snacks and drinks in your room because of the spiritual energy you always seemed to be expelling.

Ulquiorra shook his head, those deep green eyes focused on you, wondering what your next move would be. 

“Okay,” you shrugged. Time to begin part two of your phase. “Then, since you are my guest, let me entertain you,” you said huskily. 

On your desk, you had a music player from the World of the Living. It played something called “records” with a little needle on an arm. You only had a few records, but they all had very sultry tunes from something called “jazz.” 

As the horns and crooning started up, you swiveled your hips, moving in a figure eight motion. You kept his eye contact as you carefully touched the ram horns growing from your head, your long hair, gently cupping your breasts and sliding your delicate hands up and down your abdomen and sides. 

Green eyes watched, considered, wondered what had happened. Yes, you were stubborn like a ram, like a fire sign. 

You loosened the ties on your hakama, rolling them down your wide hips as you continued with your sensual movements. You loved this music, the way it made you feel, the tone it set for the nights. 

Your panties, like your top were non-descript, but they hugged you in a pleasant way. You had thought about petitioning for sexier undergarments from Aizen-sama, just to see how much trouble you could get in. You supposed you would just have to get them from the World of the Living somehow. 

You worked your way over to where he was seated, twisting this way and that over his knees, gradually working your way into his lap. Automatically, he adjusted his legs to accommodate your body. But you were careful not to touch him. That was all part of the plan. 

You wouldn’t be satisfied until he was begging you for what he needed, and you could finally give it to him.

Ulquiorra found his mouth was very dry as he watched you. Now that your haori and hakama were gone, he could smell your scent again as it wrapped around him in a haze. 

How could you have gotten to him so thoroughly? How did you get past his defenses? 

Smiling at him, you took his hands and put them on your hips as you moved, ghosting your shapely bottom over his lap. Even under his loose hakama, you could feel the beginnings of a very promising erection. 

Upping the ante, you moved his hands to your waist and back down. Wondering what would happen if you let go, you moved just your hands back to your breasts, up your neck, and in your hair as you undulated. 

Hiding a wicked smile, you felt his slender hands grip your hips with enough force to bruise. 

Ulquiorra wondered what kind of spell you had put on him, dulling his senses, if this was your real power.

You let a little moan slip as you rolled your neck, hair falling down your back. The fingers clenched, digging in. 

Phase two complete. You had him. 

You twisted around to grin at him, his hands dropping quickly into his lap as if burned. 

“I take it you like the entertainment,” you said. Ulquiorra didn’t respond. He didn’t have to, his body answered with a bulge in his hakama. 

Big, green eyes, quickly being overtaken with black stared up at you, flabbergasted expression on his face. 

You straddled his hips, taking a fistful of hair and licking the shell of his ear, pulling the lobe in your mouth to suck. 

Then you stopped and looked him over, calculating your next move. Time to make him beg. 

You pulled the fabric covering your breasts down, letting them bounce free. You juggled them a little rocking on his hips. You held them up near his face, tantalizingly close, rubbing and pinching your nipples for him. 

“You want to touch these, don’t you?” you asked, holding a pert nipple near his mouth. 

Ulquiorra managed to open and close his mouth, before settling on nodding. 

“Mm, I can’t hear you though. I need to hear you to make sure you’re genuine,” you told him. Once again, you held the nipple close, but still out of his reach.

To your surprise, Ulquiorra craned his neck forward, reaching. 

“No, that won’t do,” you scolded him, touching his nose and pushing him back. “You didn’t say you wanted to. I can’t let you touch them, much less taste them without saying so.” 

You arched your back, pushing them further out as you stroked the fleshy globes for his viewing pleasure. He licked his lips. You could see the wheels practically turning as he made some fast decisions. You wouldn’t expect anything less from an Espada. That’s why Aizen gave them the numbers. 

“I,” he hesitated, licking his lips once more, “I-I want to touch them,” he tells you, reaching a pale hand towards one of your breasts. 

“And we mustn’t forget our manners,” you tell him, grabbing his hand, stopping the progress. “What do we say?” 

He stared up at you once more, almost fully submitted to your whims. 

“Please, _____ -sama?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing his slender hand to your breast, flushed with pleasure at the title. Yes, you were in charge here and Ulquiorra did best when he recognized authority. 

Ulquiorra couldn’t believe he had given you the title of -sama, just to touch your hot flesh. He knew he should have probably been disgusted, but all he could think about was how soft your skin was, how your nipples tightened up when he brushed over them. 

“Oh yes, good boy,” you said, letting his other hand come up and fondle both breasts at the same time. You had to give him some perks. 

“Do you want to taste them?” you asked, undulating your body so that they were close to his face. You had to smile as his pink tongue darted out and lapped at a nipple. 

You pressed a finger to his lips but didn’t stop the movement of your hips. 

“No, no. I didn’t say you could taste yet,” you scolded him again. You grabbed his chin roughly. “What do we say?” 

“Sorry _______ -sama.” You studied his pale face, tracing the dark lines bisecting his cheeks. He was really playing into your game well. He was a lot more fun when submissive, panting beneath your lap and following your orders. If you hadn’t been so turned on, you would have laughed that he was calling you his superior even though you were just a Fraccion. 

“Much better,” you said as you licked the shell of his ear again. “Now, do you want to taste them?” you asked again, holding his chin so he had to look into your eyes. 

Ulquiorra could smell your scent even stronger now that your top was gone. He wanted to know if you tasted as good as you looked and smelled. He…wanted you. 

“Yes, please ____ -sama,” he said, voice breathy with want. His cock was aching the more you teased him. “Please,” he added, even though he had already said it. 

“You’re a quick learner,” you said, pressing your chest into his face, rubbing the fleshy globes together. “Good boy, now you may taste.” His hands came up and grabbed hefty handfuls of them, greedily sucking a puckered nipple into his mouth like a man starved. 

You dug your fingers into his shoulders, moaning as he ravaged your bosom. Mmm, he was a good boy, a very good boy. Maybe you would reward him in a little while with a blow job. You had never seen him this undone before. Green eyes were closed as he sucked with small noises and moans. 

Ulquiorra lost himself in your breasts. He had never felt this starved before. He had some experience, but it had not been favorable; little more than rutting, casual, no emotion. But with you, Ulquiorra could feel.

“Mmmm, yes. You like that don’t you?” you asked, grabbing a fistful of hair and making him look at you. “Say yes, ____-sama.”

“Yes _____-sama,” Ulquiorra said, a hint of a moan in his voice. He wanted to go back to ravishing your breasts, but you stopped him.

“I have something else for you to do,” you tell him, getting out of his lap. You grab the scrap of fabric from around your abdomen, drawing it up over your breasts again, and throwing it into a forgotten corner. 

You pull him up from the chair and lead him over to your futon. You press him into a kneeling position among the pillows. 

“Take off my boots,” you commanded, lifting your foot up to show him. Not breaking eye contact, Ulquiorra unzipped the side of your boot and tossed it to the side. Slender fingers stroked your feet for a moment, feeling heavenly, you had to give him that. You gave him your other foot and the same process followed. 

Gods, that felt better. You tended to wear as little as possible in your quarters, because hardly anyone interrupted you. 

“Take off my panties,” you told him, touching his calm face, stroking the warm flesh. 

He hooks his slender fingers in the waistband and tugs, a painstaking pace as if he is unwrapping a present. You start to tell him hurry up, but you notice the way he is drinking in your smooth waistline, your bald pussy. His fingers are gentle, questioning as he strokes the skin. 

“Seeing is believing?” you asked, not really wanting an answer. Ulquiorra glanced up at your grinning face. Your underwear fell around your ankles and you kicked them out of the way. 

“Perfect,” he said, admiring the flesh. 

“Good. Do you want to touch my pussy?” you asked, taking a step out of his reach. Couldn’t give him too much of the upper hand yet. 

“Yes, please _____ -sama,” Ulquiorra said, strain in his voice the longer this game played out. “I want to touch your pussy.” 

He wanted to do more than touch; but he was quickly learning the rules, that playing the game would get him rewards he didn’t even know he needed. 

“I’ll let you,” you tell him, “but you have to remove your haori.” Ulquiorra quickly unzipped and shrugged out of the garment, letting it fall in among the pillows. 

“Perfect, I like smart guys,” you tell him, moving back into his reach. Those pale hands, with black nails, gently mapped and caressed your thighs up to the vee in your hips. You shivered with delight at his touch. He palmed your mons a few times, before tracing your damp slit with a curious finger. 

You moaned, arching your back. The sound stroked a direct line of aching want to Ulquiorra’s rock-hard erection. 

“Yes, that’s perfect,” you all but purred, stroking his feathery black hair and his face. 

“Thank you, ____ -sama,” Ulquiorra told you, adding a second finger to stroking your slit. He was amazed; the more he touched, the wetter you became and the stronger your unique floral scent became. He inhaled greedily. 

“Faster,” you told him, your fingers gently rubbing his scalp. Ulqiorra obeyed, watching how your nectar coated the vee of your thighs. 

“Oo, yes! Just like that,” you praised him. You indulged him for a few more minutes. Ulquiorra took this time to stretch the rules just a little, inserting a long finger inside of you, being sure to explore each and every dip and crevice. He felt your ribbed walls, your liquid coating, searching for your sweet spot. 

“Gods Ulquiorra, you are wonderful,” you hummed, as you stilled his fingers. “Lick your fingers,” you told him, stilling the sinful movement. 

His green eyes were blown dark with lust as he stuck his slender fingers in his talented mouth, taking his time and savoring your taste. You tasted sweeter than anything he had ever experienced, and he wanted more. He didn’t care what he had to do to get more of your taste. 

“Do you want more?” you asked, gripping his chin, forcing him to look at you. “Tell me dirty boy.” 

“I need more, _____ -sama,” Ulquiorra told you, his voice pleading. 

“I will give you more,” you tell him, releasing his chin and laying down among the pillows. “I want that mouth on my pussy, now.” 

Ulquiorra watched as you spread your legs wide open to allow him access. He crawled on his belly towards you. Your intoxicating scent calling to him. He held your thighs steady as he lowered his mouth to your hot core. 

You moaned, head lolling back into your pillows, as he lapped at your juices. He closed his lips around your sensitive bud, sucking. You melted in his mouth. He licked each part of your fold, taking any of your nectar that he could, searching for more. He nuzzled the folds gently, inserting his tongue into the tight muscles, feeling you rapidly clench and unclench. 

More liquid gushed out, coating his tongue, as he laved attention to your pussy. He was like a man thirsting in the desert for water, only to have stumbled on a private oasis.

You clenched the nearest pillow and kept a firm grip on his hair, trying to keep his face planted where you wanted. The coil of pleasure building behind your belly button was almost painful with your need to come. 

“Keep going,” you encouraged, breathless and panting. Your thighs quivered, his fingers dug into the flesh, holding you steady as he continued his ministrations. “Mmm, that’s right,” you encouraged. “Just like that.” 

You were torn between letting him bring you to completion with just his tongue and straddling his thighs to see what he was hiding beneath that hakama. 

“Nnng, stop,” you told him, sitting up. The room was spinning for a moment. You tried to focus. “Let me see you take those hakama off, slowly,” you directed, hoping this would give you enough time to recover. 

“As you wish,” Ulquiorra told you, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting his lips as he stood and stretched. You watched, burning into embers, as he slowly untied the hakama and maneuvered them down his thin hips with his fingers. 

His girthy cock sprang free, proud and relieved, as the pants pooled in the floor. Your head had stopped spinning so much, your mouth dry as his milky skin came into view. You weren’t sure you had ever seen such as beautiful body. 

“Turn around,” you told him, fascinated as he rotated, the firm globes of his butt catching your attention. Perfect for holding onto, if you ever left him get on top. 

“Beautiful,” you said, not realizing it was aloud. The faintest traces of blush painted his cheeks as he faced you. “Come here,” you gestured to the futon again. 

He sank down beside you and you straddled his hips again. With no clothes between you, his hot and heavy cock pressed into your thigh. You couldn’t wait to have it inside. Your need was almost starting to outweigh your game. 

“Tell me that you want me to ride you,” you said, rubbing your dripping sex over his hardened member. You felt it twitch in response, felt him gasp slightly at the movement. 

“Please ride me _____ -sama,” he said, closing his eyes as you rubbed over him again. “I need to be inside you.” 

You smirked. He needed you. Well that was quite a change from earlier. 

“Of course, baby,” you said, using one hand to position his helmet at your dripping entrance. Tortuously, you sank onto him, inch by inch, his thick cock stretching your walls in a deliciously intimate way. You nearly came as you sat fully on his shaft. 

It was always the skinny ones, you thought, who have the biggest equipment. 

Gripping his shoulders, you raised your hips up, repeating the slow movement. His head sank in the pillows and a sigh escaped his lips as you set the rhythm. 

Ulquiorra didn’t know that this could feel so wonderful, being sheathed in your hot, dripping core. He gripped your hips, helping position you, striking that spot inside that threatened to make you come undone. 

“Are you going to come in me?” you asked, breathless. The coil of pleasure was rapidly unwinding, especially when your sweet spot was manipulated. Ulquiorra hit it almost every time with just his sheer size. 

“If it would please you ____-sama,” Ulquiorra moaned. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer being sheathed in your tight, wet heat. His grip tightened and he felt the weight of his orgasm building. 

“Yes, please come in me,” you cried, hips moving frantically. “I need you to come,” you all but shouted. 

His cock twitched, and your walls pulsed and grippeds as the coil of your orgasm finished unwinding. It rocked through you, causing you to scream as you arched your back and jerked your hips unevenly as you rode out your wave. 

Ulquiorra was right behind you, cock twitching as his released pulsed inside you. He groaned, weakly bucking his hips up a few more times, still slipping his cock in and out of you. 

Finally, you both were still, sweaty, panting. You looked down to see his green eyes studying your face. 

“Worth it?” you asked. 

“Yes, _____,” he said, dropping the -sama from your name now that the game was completed. 

You dropped your forehead to his, resting for a moment, before you kissed him gently. You slid off his lap and collapsed in the pillows. Your record was still playing in the background, nearly forgotten. 

You didn’t expect him to wrap his arms around you, pull you to his chest. You grinned, phase three complete. 

Ulquiorra wrapped himself in your smell.

“I might have need of a Fraccion,” he said, just before you closed your eyes. 

“Great, we’ll start after a few hours rest,” you told him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking requests! Who would you like to see?


	4. Ukitake Jushiro x Reader – A Guy What Takes His Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ukitake initiates this encounter. Somewhat long, so get a cuppa and a comfortable place to sit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Any chance you would be willing to do Ukitake? Usually when i have read stories featuring him, its the other partner who initiates. I think it would be interesting if he were the one pining for the reader, maybe with a bit of seduction on his part?  
> Author’s Note: Absolutely! I love Ukitake and haven’t seen many stories yet where he initiates. So settle in, this is going to be a long one with a bit more story than I usually do. I just feel like he would take his time somewhat. Starts out a little sad, but don’t worry, it will pick up. Sorry if he is OOC! I tried!  
> Also, just being a nerd really, but I’ve modified some aspects of Soul Society for this story. I have no clue if it rains there, but it does today, I’m not sure I’ve used the hell butterflies for their original use, and any other little inconsistencies there might be that you encounter. My s/o laughed at the fact I was worried over these details instead of worry about the NSFW logistics and parts.

When you had come to Ukitake’s private offices at his home, Ugendo, asking if you could rest there, he had known something was bothering you. 

First of all, Ugendo was off to itself, with a dock on the water. He could see and hear anyone coming for a while usually.

Second of all, you had walked there in the pouring rain with no protection for your head or clothes. 

Thirdly, you had been crying and thought the rain would disguise it. 

Jushiro met you at the door and pulled you in from the downpour. He had heard your hurried footsteps on the wood, even over the din of the rain. 

“_____-chan,” he said, touching your damp hair, lifting your face for inspection. Your eyes were rimmed in red, nose a little raw. 

“Ukitake-san,” you said, shivering. “Taicho.” 

“I’ve told you, call me Jushiro-kun, especially when we’re alone,” he corrected you, searching around for a towel. He had known you for a long time and you always addressed him so formally, out of habit. It made him a little sad that you still didn’t see him as a friend. He knew the others called him ‘soft-hearted’ when it came to his squad, but he didn’t care. 

Since the moment you had been assigned to his squad, he had only had eyes for you. But it seemed that you never reciprocated. He had tried to show you in subtle ways, small gifts, etc. But still, you tended to be formal, not allowing yourself to open up. He had wondered if it was just that he was captain holding you back, or if there was something else. Perhaps you had a boyfriend already. Someone as pretty as you? He figured. 

You were beautiful and sweet, but with a strong undercurrent. You were able to keep his co-third seat in check when you were around, finding them menial but consuming tasks to complete so that he could have a break and you could get actual work done. On missions, you tried not to let anything distract you. He loved to watch you work. 

Jushiro found a towel near the tea and draped it over your head. Already, you were leaving a trail of little dark blots of water in your wake. He didn’t care so much about the floor, but he knew you would, that you would use it as an excuse to avoid what was really going on. 

“Uki- Jushiro-kun,” you corrected yourself, through chattering teeth. He worked quickly to tuck the towel around your head, your wet hair. 

“What’s wrong, ______ -chan?” he asked, seating you in his desk chair. He pulled his white haori off and put it around your shoulders. He knelt in front of you, dark eyebrows knit in concern. 

Sniffling, you wrapped yourself in his familiar scent of tea, sandalwood, and something slightly sweet. His haori crinkled slightly, from the snacks he always seemed to have. You smiled, despite your misery. 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, please,” you begged, hating the tears still rolling down your face. “Please, can I just sleep here for a few hours Jushiro-kun?” 

“Of course.” He patted your hair, still trying to dry it enough to keep you from getting sick. “Of course, ___ -chan,” he said, grabbing your cold hand and leading you to the couch he kept there for when he had his bad days or worked too late into the night and didn’t feel like using his futon.

Jushiro tried to tamp down the little jolt of lust he felt, leading you to his couch. He had fantasized and dreamed of this moment, but not under these circumstances. Not when you were here out of desperation. His wide mouth was turned in a deep frown over what would have possibly driven you to these lengths. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” he told you softly, as you lay down. He pulled the blanket over you, brushing damp strands out of your face. You were still shivering, but not as severe. “And sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” 

“Mmm,” you hummed, already succumbing to being surrounded by his familiar smell and the warmth of the blanket, his haori. 

He smiled at you, smoothed the blanket one last time and left you to go back to his reports. 

However, Jushiro found it was incredibly difficult to concentrate with you so near. He kept turning, just to watch you sleep. 

Your hair was drying out to his favorite color, your breathing regular, and your face soft. Whatever had been on your mind was not disturbing your sleep. He had to smile, because he had helped ease whatever was going on in some small way. 

Deciding his reports could wait, he opted for sipping hot tea, listening to the rain, and watching you. He could have worked on shaping up his bonsai, checking the carp despite the rain, or even working on the “Warning of the Twin Fish.” But nothing else would hold his attention this afternoon. 

Jushiro wondered what could have broken you this way. He knew that his squad seemed cursed. Kaien and his wife. His health. The unpleasantness with Rukia. You had been there for all of it. 

He didn’t think he could lose someone else. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking away sleep, as you looked around. You had forgotten where you were for a moment. 

You were so comfortable wrapped in his blanket, in his haori, surrounded by his familiar scent like an anchor in a storm. You must have had a touch of madness to seek him out, but you hadn’t known what else to do and didn’t want to be alone. 

He always made it clear to seek him out when you needed something. Of all the captains, he was nicest, you thought. Except maybe Shunshui who you had heard was lecherous. 

“_____-chan,” he said softly, coming to sit by your feet on the couch. “Feeling better?” He brushed the hair from your forehead, caressing the skin. 

Gods knew you felt different than when you came in. The rain was still coming down, you could hear it on the roof. 

“Thank you, taicho,” you smiled, sitting up. “I feel a little better.”

You noticed he winced slightly at your ingrained use of his title. 

“Thank you, Jushiro-kun,” you corrected. Dark eyebrows shot up in surprise, his wide mouth opening for a moment. 

“Come have some tea and a snack with me,” he said, gesturing over to the tea service laid out. “Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you confessed, padding over to where he was pouring hot tea. 

He had made a new pot in want of something to do, to keep him busy while watching you sleep. 

“Well, don’t try on an empty stomach. Here.” Long, slender fingers pressed a cup into your hands, holding them for just a second longer than necessary. 

He had added sugar, just the way you liked, you realized as you sipped. You tentatively bit into a cracker and sighed. You hadn’t realized how much you were in need of nourishment. 

“Jushiro-kun,” you said, feeling tears welling again. He was so nice. 

“_____-chan!” Jushiro said, setting his tea down and pulling you into his arms. 

You melted into his embrace; tears freely falling down your cheeks. Jushiro held you close, rubbing your back and whispering sweetly to you in an effort to calm you back down. Eventually, you were down to just sniffling. 

“What has you so upset?” he asked softly, combing his fingers through your hair as you lay against his broad chest. 

“My best friend was gravely wounded in the World of the Living on his last mission and I don’t know that he’s going to make it,” you cried. His fingers stilled.

Jushiro hugged you closer, feeling your heart beating rapidly against his. 

“Oh ____-chan,” Jushiro said, continuing combing your hair. “It’s okay,” he soothed. So, your best friend was a ‘he?’ He shook the errant thought away. “It’s all going to be okay.” 

“Ikkaku-kun is like my family,” you cry. You had been friends since before you were Soul Reapers, back in the Rukongai. He was like your brother; a little crazy, but funny and good at heart. 

“Now, now, he’s strong. I’m sure he’ll make it,” Ukitake told you. “He’s been in worse situations, ____-chan.” 

“But not like this,” you said, tears back in full force. 

“Since you’ve slept, how about I send a Hell Butterfly to the fourth division and find out?” he suggested, anything to get you to stop crying. Someone as pretty as you should never cry and never be sad, not if it was something he could remedy. 

“Okay, please?” 

“Then, I want to hear about this friendship,” Jushiro told you, letting go of you to find his butterfly. He sent the message quickly, knowing it might raise some eyebrows, but he didn’t care. If it would ease your mind, he wanted to do it. 

“Thank you, taicho,” you said, trying to dry your eyes. Gods, you felt pathetic, running to him, crying in front of him, and yet, you knew that he would know what to do. You didn’t think you could bear to lose anyone else. Kaien and his wife had been particularly painful, because they too had been close friends.

“No problem,” he smiled at you. 

As Ukitake sent the message, you watched him. For years now, there had been no one else in your life. You would serve him, no matter what. You loved his smile, his dancing eyes, his laugh.

To say, you loved Jushiro... You tried to maintain formality, because you knew you would want more from your relationship, more that he might not be willing to give.

He was a captain and you were just a seated officer. You knew it was improper. Besides, there had to be someone in his life, someone for as wonderful a person as he was. 

And yet, that didn’t stop you from fantasizing from time to time, about his sinewy body on yours, that curtain of snow-white hair, his wide mouth and soft lips. Him holding you earlier wasn’t helping either. You shook the thoughts away. Now was not the time. 

Ikkaku would have laughed at you and teased you. He knew about your true feelings for your captain. He was the only one in the world who did. Thinking about your crazy friend brought a fresh wave of tears. 

Sure, Ikkaku had been in worse scrapes, but this was the first time you had been summoned down to the fourth division to discuss the real possibility that he wouldn’t return. They had been treating the worst of his injuries, but they needed to make sure that you understood it could all go to hell in the blink of an eye. 

“Hey, ____-chan, tell me about this friendship. It must be a deep one,” Jushiro said, sitting down with you once again, gathering you into the inviting circle of his arms. 

“Ikkaku-kun knew me in the Rukongai when I was just a starving girl with too much spiritual pressure,” you explained. “He taught me how to fight, how not to cry, no matter what happened. We entered the academy together, trained together. He took me on as a sister.” 

Jushiro smiled; he would have to thank Madarame if the man lived. You were a formidable opponent in battle. He should have known it was influence from the eleventh division. He thought have seen something in your personnel file that the eleventh division wanted you, when you were a recruit out of the academy. Why had you come to thirteenth? 

“Oh, I see,” Jushiro commented. “A brother. Remind me to thank him for your training.” 

You laughed, despite the ache in your chest. Gods, it felt so wonderful to be cuddled up to Jushiro. You wished this was the norm for you, that he could hold you all the time. Little did you know that Jushiro was wishing the same thing. The two of you sat quietly, you wrapped in his lover-like embrace, enjoying his soothing warmth. 

He was about to ask why you had come to the thirteenth when the hell butterfly returned through the open door with its message. 

_Wounds healing. Regained consciousness. Much improvement._

Jushiro could feel your sigh of relief as he held you. 

Your tears quickly turned to ones of happiness. Gods, you were going to kick Ikkaku’s ass when he was back to full power for making you worry so bad. Of course, he would probably shrug it off and laugh, especially when he found out what you had done on his behalf. 

“Thank you, Jushiro-kun,” you said, turning to kiss his soft cheek. 

His mouth opened in shock. Green eyes wide with surprise. Then he smiled and laughed. 

“It was nothing. How about we go get something more to eat. I think this calls for a celebration of something more than just crackers and tea,” Jushiro suggested. He wouldn’t call it a date or think of it as a date. Just two relieved people going out to share a meal alone. He could have prepared something right at the estate, but felt that you needed to get out and about for a while.

“Oh, I don’t kn-“you started to protest. You had encroached on him enough this afternoon. He had gotten none of his reports finished because of you, gotten a chance to rest. 

“Please, ____-chan? I would be eating alone if you didn’t come. You wouldn’t make me eat alone would you?”

He had a point. It wouldn’t hurt you to eat something too, something more than just crackers. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which was just a bowl of broth, and your stomach rumbled its displeasure. 

“Sure,” you gave in. 

“Good. My treat. Come on, let’s go,” he said, standing up and pulling you up from the floor. 

“Wait! Your haori,” you said, shrugging out of it. “It wouldn’t do for you to get cold and sick,” you admonished, helping him shrug back into it. 

He had rolled his eyes, but cherished all the places where your fingers brushed, helping him. 

He took your hand and grabbed an umbrella from by the door for days just such as this. It was growing dark now, little lights appearing everywhere. The rain was just a drizzle right now. 

Your hand was soft and warm, clasped with his own. You squeezed his long fingers and he turned to smile at you. 

For all intents and purposes, you looked like a couple just out for a night. Jushiro wished that you were a real couple. The two of you were silent on the walk to the captains and lieutenants dinning hall. You had never been in before, just eating in the chow hall sometimes with all the other officers and workers. 

“Should I be here?” you asked, although there wasn’t anyone else around right now at this later hour. 

“Yes, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Jushiro chided. He helped you pick out some of his favorite dishes he felt you should try. You were actually starving now; your crying jag and the nap having sucked up your energy. 

The two of you sat and started eating quietly, savoring the taste of the dishes. They were the same ones you got in your chow hall, but they somehow tasted better sharing them with Jushiro. 

“I brought some sake,” Ukitake said, withdrawing a brand-new bottle from somewhere in his robes. You hadn’t felt it earlier, but then again, his haori had dwarfed your small frame. “To help us relax and it goes well with these dishes.” 

“Mm, wonderful,” you said. He poured the liquid into your empty cup first, before his own. You took a little longer sip than you meant, warming. He refilled your cup cheerfully. 

“This is a celebration,” he said, smiling. “That things have worked out so well.” 

The two of you chatted about different things, little snippets of news, gossip, Unohana’s latest article in _Seireitei Communication_. It felt so good, almost like being on a date…was this a data? 

Jushiro noticed that you were more pliable with the addition of the sake and warm, delicious food. Tonight, it was now or never. He wanted to know where he stood with you. 

“I meant to ask you earlier, but why did you pick the thirteenth division?” Jushiro asked, hoping the question came off as casual. “Just curious.” 

While captains had the option to select recruits, those recruits could change their minds and select another division. You had selected his, even after being sought out by another division. 

“Oh,” you said quietly, feeling blush rising to your cheeks. You knew your real reason, that this was about as close to Jushiro as you would probably get. But what were you going to tell him? “I thought you could use the help,” you said. It wasn’t totally a lie. 

Jushiro had a feeling you were lying; he was going to call you on it.

“Is that the only reason?” he asked, looking at you pointedly. 

“Not totally,” you admitted. “There’s another reason, but I can’t share it.” 

“I have another question,” he said, reaching across the table and lifting your chin, looking into your eyes. 

“Are you so formal with me because I’m your captain, or is there another reason?”

“There’s another reason there too,” you said, looking away from him. The sake was heating your cheeks considerably, along with his unwavering gaze. 

You could see concern there, but something else. Desire? Did your captain have feelings for you? The same feelings you had for him?

“____,” he said, dropping -chan from your name and grabbing your hands, “there is something I want to tell you. I’ve waited long enough and I’m afraid if I wait any longer, something else will happen.” 

“Oh?” you asked, facing him again. It was no secret that his health was a lingering problem, but he never seemed to let it hold him back or stop him from doing anything he wanted to do. 

“____, I’ve loved you from the moment you set foot into my offices. I’ve waited so long, too long, to do anything about how I feel, fearing that you don’t reciprocate because of your formality.” 

“Jushiro,” you whispered. 

“Today, when you came to me, to lean on me, I realized that some part of you must have feelings for me,” Jushiro said, his pale cheeks warming with rosy color. “So, I ask again, why thirteenth and why so formal with me?” 

You drew in a deep breath and answered, “I thought if I joined your squad, I would be content with being so close to you. By keeping things formal, I couldn’t get hurt, if my feelings weren’t reciprocated. But it wasn’t enough. I’ve found I want more, that I love you too.” 

“Then let me show you my feelings,” Jushiro said, his voice deepening as he leaned further across the table. 

You leaned to meet him but miscalculated and you bumped your heads. 

Despite the mild pain, you laughed, and it was the most wonderful sound to Ukitake. 

“Let’s try that again, but how about we stand?” Jushiro said, reaching for your hand, drawing you up from the table. 

He wrapped you in his arms as he had done all day, but this time he closed his mouth over yours and kissed you properly. He dipped you, languidly tracing your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You gave it to him, tongues beginning a powerful dance. 

When Jushiro tilted you back up, you were a little light-headed, whether from the sake or the kiss you didn’t know. Seeing you standing there, kissed so thoroughly, blushing and rumpled, the effect went straight to his groin. 

Your core clenched with desire. You had never been kissed that way before, not by someone whose feelings went so deep. 

He had to get you out of this place, take you back home to worship you properly. 

“Come on,” he said, “lets get back to Ugendo so that I can show you the true depth of my feelings,” Jushiro murmured. You nodded. 

He took your hand and the umbrella. The food and sake were abandoned on the table as the two of you left. You knew it wasn’t proper, but right about now you didn’t care. All that mattered was Jushiro. 

Outside, the air was crisp and clean, the rain finally gone. Above, the stars and moon were out, little white lights framed in a velvet background. Ukitake’s hand was warm in your own as the two of you hurried through the night. 

You had him feeling like a much younger man tonight. He felt like he was just out of the academy again. 

You didn’t think you had ever seen him so excited. Upbeat, plenty of times, but his excitement was practically contagious.

He stopped in an alcove, pulling your body flush against his, kissing you deeply and powerfully again. Your toes curled. 

Now that Jushiro knew how you really felt, he couldn’t get enough; you were addictive. His big hands wandered over your body, feeling your curves through your loose robes. He couldn’t wait to get you home to see them. 

“Gods,” you panted as he sucked on a sensitive spot below your jaw. You knew that Jushiro could be sometimes silly and sometimes serious, but you had no idea he could be so sensual. He moved his mouth further, licking and kissing right down to where your collar met the base of your neck. 

Your core ached the more he touched you. At this rate, you weren’t sure you would be able to hold on until you reached his estate. It had been so long since someone had touched you like this; even then, you had only been thinking about Jushiro. 

“Mm, you’re so sweet,” he whispered, licking the shell of your ear, and pulling your earlobe in his mouth for a quick suck. 

You panted, your stomach tumbling with want. You wanted to fist his white hair and pull him down with you. The thrill of anyone walking by and seeing you two together, petting like teenagers. 

“Jushiro,” you moaned as he went back to sucking on your neck. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get back to my place.”

Servants be damned. He didn’t care if they saw. Hopefully, you would be the new lady of the house very soon and they would have to get used to you anyway. 

“Please, yes,” you agreed. Your skin was on fire, your clothing itchy and scratching now. 

He tugged you through the night, trying to resist the urge to stop and sample you more. His member was rock-hard, almost painful in his hakama and in public, no less. 

As soon as he had you back through his private room, Jushiro’s hands were on your face, pulling your mouth to his for another blistering kiss. You thought you might disintegrate; you had never been kissed by someone who felt as deeply as he did, and it showed. 

Jushiro wound his fingers in your long hair, keeping his mouth crushed against yours as he pushed you against the nearest wall. Slowly, he drew your bottom lip in between his teeth, sucking. He rubbed his erection against your thigh, feeling you moan into the kiss. 

He was torn between wanting to hurry things along and take his time. There would be more nights, he hoped, but this night had to be special. Had to be savored. 

“Allow me,” Jushiro murmured against your lips, untying your obi slowly. You were glad for the break, to catch your breath. Next was your still damp shihakusho and hakama. He slowly drew the fabric from your skin, pushing it down and off your body to pool on the hardwood flooring. 

Goosebumps appeared wherever his fingers touched. You had opted for one of your prettier, lacy numbers, feeling special under your clothes even if no one else saw them. 

“So beautiful,” Jushiro said, his gaze like a physical touch, examining every inch of your exposed flesh. “All for me.” His fingers brushed over bare skin and silken lace, igniting a torch of lust in your belly. 

You mumbled something and tried to avert his gaze. Your other experiences had been in the dark, without looking at your partner, just a matter of need. 

“No, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he told you, holding your chin so that his green eyes could bore into yours. His pupils were dilated, his eyes dark. He pulled you up for another kiss, this one soft and warm. 

Jushiro moved the kiss from your lips to your neck and down, exploring your body with his mouth. Gods, he had dreamed of this night and wondered if it would ever happen. He could taste salt and smell your bodywash of lavender and some sort of flower. He nuzzled your flesh, as he moved down your chest to your abdomen.

“Mmmm, Jushiro,” you moaned, then feeling devilish, you said, “taicho.” 

Instead of turning him away, his mouth sucked a particularly succulent piece of flesh, eyes hooded with desire as he gazed up at you beneath long, dark lashes. 

He moved his mouth back to your chest, licking and teasing a nipple through the lace. Your thighs quivered with desire. 

“May I?” he asked, fingers locking onto your hooks. You nodded. He pulled the bra slowly down your arms, tantalizing flesh on view. He drank in your dusky areolas and buds the same shade as his favorite sakura trees in spring. 

He cupped one mound of soft flesh, hefting the weight, flicking his thumb over your sensitized bud. You moaned, threading your fingers in your own locks, and arching your back into his touch. Jushiro fastened his mouth over one sweet peak, sucking very slowly, watching your reaction. 

Your breath was short and little soft pants were tumbling from your mouth as he brought a hand up to cup and knead the other breast. He closed his eyes, savoring the soft and yielding feel of your body. At some point, he switched and continued lavishing attention to your chest. 

You could feel juices gathering and slipping through the lace of your panties, down your legs. The need to be touched was quickly growing desperate. But, one of qualities that endeared him to you most was your patience. You had to have a lot of patience to work in his division. 

You opted for rubbing your thighs together for a little relief, not wanting Ukitake to stop what he was doing to your breasts either. 

“Oh my, but I’ve not been paying attention to that need,” Jushiro said, stopping his ministrations on your breasts and using one finger to trace the line of your slit through your soaked panties. 

You panted at his touch, burning. You tried not to move your hips, to buck into his hand. 

He watched you as he continued stroking. Your cheeks were heated. 

“Come with me,” he told you, leading you towards the bedroom beyond the room division. It had a wide window, overlooking the water, the crescent moon shining through, bathing everything in a silvery glow. 

Jushiro made sure to seat you on the edge of his bed. He had opted for a western bed, instead of sleeping on a futon on the floor, when he had his bad days. It was much easier to sit up in bed, than it was to sit up from the floor. 

“Don’t you have too many clothes on, _taicho_?” you teased. 

He hummed a response, as he shifted out of his white haori, abandoning it on the floor. He slowly untied his plain obi, your eyes drawn to that tented spot in his hakama you had felt earlier. Your mouth was slightly open as he pulled the shihakusho open, revealing his pale but muscular chest and strong arms. The black and white of the kosode and shitagi joined the white puddle on the floor. His hakama slowly worked their way down his narrow hips as he had removed the other pieces. 

Meeting your eyes, he slowly pushed the fabric down, revealing his powerful length and girth to you. You knew your mouth was hanging open, but you didn’t care. You had never had anyone standing before you like he was, ready to make love to you.

He made quick work of his tabi and waraji, kicking them somewhere around the room. 

“That’s better,” he sighed. “Now, lets get yours off too.” 

Before you could react too much, he knelt down and pulled your waraji off, tossing them over his shoulder. Your tabi, he took his time sliding them down your ankles and feet, gently massaging the tired flesh, working his way up your calves and thighs. 

He draped your knees over his broad shoulders, parting your thighs for him. He could see the damp spot on the lace of your underwear, see your juices on your thighs, glistening in the sliver light. 

“Ah!” you moaned as he pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You collapsed in the soft mattress and bedding, staring up at the ceiling. 

Jushiro worked his fingers under the waistband, sliding the lace down your wide hips, maneuvering to get them off your legs and out of sight. 

Now you were fully laid bare before him. He drank in every gleaming fold, every curve with his fingers, stroking the slit of your opening and watching it open before him like a flower. 

He was fascinated, between the way your body activated for him and the little sounds of pleasure you were making as he continued touching you. Curious, he stuck a slick finger in his mouth and sucked, savoring the sweet taste of you. It was his turn to make little noises of desire. 

“You’re my best meal and favorite snack,” Jushiro told you, as he leaned forward to delve into your folds with his mouth. He flicked his calloused thumb over your clit as his tongue lapped at your juicy folds. 

“Ohhhh,” you moaned, not realizing how loud you were. Your toes curled again. You reached your hands down, tangling them in his rich, white hair. 

He hummed his pleasure into your body as he slipped his tongue past the tight ring of muscles. He loved his hair being played with and looked forward to many nights of you stroking the locks, burying your fingers in them. 

His tongue thrusted in and out of you as his thumb teased your clit. He felt you buck your hips against his face, the effect a direct line to his groin. He couldn’t wait to fill you, feel you pulsing around him like you were his tongue. 

But first, he wanted to feel you come undone. He slipped a finger inside your tight, wet heat, using his tongue in tandem. You were writhing, flushed, and needy. The coil of heat behind your bellybutton was unfurling faster and faster, racing toward a finish. 

“Ju-shir-o,” you moaned, his name punctuated with sound, thighs squeezing, trying to get him even closeer. You tried to warn him as your walls clamped down around his tongue and finger. “Nngh!”

Ukitake smiled into your wetness, as he lapped up the aftermath. He could get addicted to your taste. Once he felt you relax, Jushiro quickly withdrew, still on his knees and studying your body. Reluctantly, you had released his hair. 

You were coated in a fine sheet of sweat, limbs all askew across his bed. The effect warmed his heart and engorged his already hard member. You were perfect. Gods, he should have said something sooner. 

He rose, motioning for you to move further up the bed. It took real effort, with your jelly limbs. 

Jushiro couldn’t wait much longer to fully take you. He knew he may not last long tonight, especially sheathed in your burning, wet heat. He wanted to feel you fully, feel your body come undone around his, feel his hot release inside you as you both finally tumbled into oblivion. 

“____,” he said, “are you ready?” 

You gazed up at his serious face, body aching with the need to have him inside you. 

“Yes, gods yes,” you breathed, parting your legs for him. 

He knelt on the bed, crawling towards you to get in position. He parted your thighs further and stroked himself, feeling the bead of pre-come spread with the motion. He would just have to test out your mouth another night; this one was all about making love to you, fulfilling his promise to show you the depth of his feelings. 

He rubbed his cock in your velvety folds, coating himself in your juices, before slipping just the head in to your tight, wet heat. The muscles gripped him, trying to pull him deeper. Jushiro enjoyed your welcoming heat for just a moment, watching your face as your mouth opened, little sounds slipping out. 

“Mmm ____, you feel wonderful,” Jushiro told you as he hovered above you, bracing his weight on his hands. His chest brushed yours as he leaned in for a slow, languid kiss. You could taste your own juices as he deepened the kiss with his tongue. 

There was something naughty about being kissed after he had laved attention to your other lips. You smiled into the kiss, your tongue dancing with his, as he slipped deeper inside your channel. 

Jushiro groaned as he reached the hilt, brushing your cervix in the process. You were made to fit his body. He rested and kissed you again. You threaded your fingers in his snowy locks, pulling him closer. 

“I like that _____,” he told you, his voice a seductive whisper. 

“Good,” you said back, groaning as you felt him pulling his member out with a drawling movement. Your head canted back in the pillows with his slow stroke to your insides. 

“Gods, you’re so tight,” he panted. His member was stroking a furnace with each movement, the coil behind your belly button tight with need again. 

He set a slow, deliberate pace, rocking his slender hips into yours as you wrapped your thighs and calves around him. Green eyes gazed deeply into your own as he watched the nuances in your expressions with each thrust. You were meant to be savored, like a fine bottle of wine. 

No one had ever lavished this much attention on you. No one had ever taken you this way, feeling each and every piece of your body. 

Your release was starting to uncoil as Jushiro picked up his pace. His white hair not in your gasp tickled your shoulders. 

He was sweating and grunting with each thrust. He felt the threads of his orgasm beginning, chasing yours. Your little pants and moans spurred him on, his thrusts growing desperate and uneven. Each stroke of your ribbed walls threatened to undo him. 

“Gods, ____,” he groaned. “I love you,” he said. 

“Jushiro,” you moaned, your orgasm blazing through you, your walls fluttering and clenching down on him. “I love you too.” 

With your undoing, Jushiro felt the threads of his orgasm pull tight as his release pulsed inside you, as he continued thrusting a few times. 

He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you trying to regain your breath. Your legs relaxed, lying open on the bed with him between them. 

Jushiro smiled down at you, kissing you softly before he slid into the spot beside you. You didn’t care how hot or sweaty you were as he wrapped you in his arms once more. 

Fully satisfied, your eyes were heavy as he cradled you against his chest. He kissed the lids closed and kept you pulled tightly against him, determined not to let you go, now that he had you. 


	5. Hisagi Shuhei x Reader – No More, Mr. Nice Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: If you still take requests, I’d like to ask for a OS including Shūhei, maybe?  
> Author’s Notes: Love Shuhei! So, this is alternate universe with a bit of boss/worker relationship and dive bar band watching. May not be nearly as long as some of my others…but who knows.

Shuhei didn’t want to dress up for the masquerade party he had been invited to by Rangiku; a party for his publication. He didn’t really want to go, but he didn’t want to stay home either, because he knew he would be pants off in front of the computer, completed in three minutes. _That_ had lost its charm lately too. 

So, he found himself dressed to the nines in a tux with a black butterfly mask covering the upper half of his face. He could still glare at people who got too close to him with their drinks. 

Shuhei supposed that he could be home, thinking of a new article for his publication. Though, he mused, he could use this party for that content. 

He could recognize his friends and acquaintances; Rangiku drinking too much and falling out of her top (why did she bother with a mask?), Toshiro even angrier than he was, fussing at Rangiku and her antics, Kira looking super red-faced despite his thin mask. 

He shook his head and took a long pull on his beer, watching the bodies crushed together in the stuffy ballroom, people who were usually well-behaved were now behaving badly. He rolled his eyes, considering leaving for the night. 

Then he spotted you, weaving your way through the crowd, a vision in black tulle and velvet.

Shuhei wondered who had invited you, who he should thank because you were stunning. You had a black mask very similar to his, that could not conceal your smile. His groin tightened as he watched you work the room. 

It hit him that it was, you, his new assistant, who he had been unable to stop thinking about for weeks. Part of why his usual nighttime afterwork hobby had lost its usual charm. All he could think about was you. 

Whenever you walked into a room, you just commanded his attention, no matter what it was you were doing. 

One of his drunker employees had stopped you and you seemed slightly uncomfortable. 

Shuhei didn’t wait to act; he brushed through the crowd, wading out to where you were, putting his hand on your shoulder. 

“Is he bothering you, babe?” he asked, voice dark. 

“I-I-I didn’t realize, Hisagi-sama,” the man said, moving away from the two of you as quickly as possible. 

Under his grip, you felt yourself relax. You didn’t even mind that Shuhei-kun had called you ‘babe.’ You liked it, but knew it wasn’t going to happen for real probably. 

“Are you okay _____-chan?” Shuhei asked, directing you off the floor, to the edges. You warmed. 

“Yes, Shuhei-kun,” you said cheerfully. “Thank you for chasing him away.” 

He realized his hand was still resting on your bare shoulder; he blushed and withdrew it. 

Unlike a lot of his employees, you always addressed him in the familiar. When he had hired you, you had made it clear that was how you treated everyone. You said your previous work relationships worked better because it was more personal. 

Shuhei couldn’t argue with that logic. 

“Can I just hang out over here with you?” you asked. 

“Sure.” 

His tough-guy image didn’t scare you. You always had a thing for the bad boy, although, Shuhei talked a good game, you knew that he was really soft at heart. It was one of the things you liked about him. 

“You didn’t look like you were having fun,” you commented. He handed you his spare beer. 

“Truthfully?” he asked, dark grey eyes raking over you, “This is not my scene.” 

“Mine either,” you confessed, taking a swig. 

You had gotten dressed up because you knew that was what was required of you, as his assistant. But you were much more a jeans and band t-shirt kind of girl. You would have been just as happy in a bar with live music as anything. 

“Really?” he asked, eyes wide with surprise. You didn’t strike him as the rough type. Then again, he didn’t think he had ever seen you in anything but the clean-cut assistant clothes, simple white shirt and tight black skirt. He nearly blushed remembering how many times he had daydreamed about that skirt. 

“Yeah,” you said, peeling your mask off, revealing the rest of your beautiful face. “In fact, there is a show at my favorite bar tonight that I was hoping I could still make it to.” 

“And music too?” Shuhei asked, pulling off his mask as well. He had a guitar at home that he messed around with when he wasn’t busy with publication. He had dreams of starting a band on the side.

As if you couldn’t be any more perfect for him. 

“You too, obviously,” you smiled. 

“How about we ditch this place then? They shouldn’t need us for the night,” Shuhei said. 

“Great! I thought you would never ask,” you smiled. “Come on.” You were trying to finish off your beer with him in tow. 

If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything to either of you. 

Shuhei breathed a sigh of relief being out in the cool night, away from the silliness of the party. 

“That’s better,” you said, stretching. 

“How about we change?’ Shuhei suggested, looking over your tulle and velvet dress, thinking it would be entirely out of place and might get damaged. While he wouldn’t have minded seeing it come off, he didn’t want anyone else seeing you. 

He knew his tux wasn’t up to a dive bar and rock show. 

“Ever the clear headed one,” you teased. “I’ll grab my clothes, you drive, and we can change at the bar. No one will care.” 

Shuhei settled for nodding, because his brain was filled with images of you half-dressed and he didn’t trust himself to speak right then. 

He started loosening his bow tie and the top buttons on his stuffy shirt. Why did he let his friends talk him into things like this? 

More importantly, why hadn’t he realized you were a music otaku? He was already losing sleep over how much he liked you, how much he couldn’t formally ask you out because you worked for him, how he couldn’t really do anything either way. 

He was glad that you were incredibly perceptive. If you hadn’t come along, he would have stayed, out of a sense of duty and would have hated every minute of it. You always seemed to be looking out for him, while he was looking out for everyone else. 

Shuhei smiled and was glad that no one was around to see him break his bad boy persona for a few seconds. 

Well, no one but you. 

“Oh, was that a smile, I spied?” you asked, bundle of clothes under you arm. You had hurried to your car, worried that Shuhei might disappear. You had wanted him alone to yourself for weeks in more than just an office setting. 

When it was just the two of you, he was less uptight and a little playful. He could look intimidating with the three long scratches on the side of his face, the left cheek 69 tattoo in reference to the district he grew up in, and the blue band across his left cheek and nose. 

You knew from working with him that he had a heart of gold. His bark was worse than his bite. Hisagi really loved his work and his employees, no matter how they got on his nerves. You had dated guys who looked normal and were terrifically evil inside. Most people gave Shuhei a wide berth for his outside when his inside was pretty pure. 

Shuhei shook his head at your question. All about maintaining his bad boy persona. 

“No, bug in my face.”

You shrugged. “Whatever you say. So, lets get started?” 

“Yeah, come on. I should have walked with you to your car,” he said as the two of you walked to his car. He didn’t even think of it until then. What was he doing letting you go off in the dark? 

“I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I could smother them with all this tulle in my dress.” You liked the short layers and the fun velvet top but sitting down was a chore. That’s why you had figured it would be perfect, because these things tended not to require much sitting down. 

“Still,” Shuhei chided. What was it about you that made him forget everything? To make up for not walking with you to your car, he kept one of his large hands on the warm small of your back as the two of you walked under streetlights. 

He was desperately trying not to think of this as a date, even though you were going to a mutually favored place and had made plans semi in advance. 

Shuhei had parked his car nearby in a well-lit area. He unlocked your door first and made sure you were seated before unlocking his own. 

“So where is this place?” he asked. You gave him the directions and the two of you set off. 

Taking advantage of the dark car interior, you started trying to slip your jeans on under the tulle of the voluminous skirt. 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Shuhei asked, trying to keep his focus on the road.

“Relax, just putting on my jeans. This dress is hella uncomfortable,” you grunted, trying to pull the skinny pants up your sweaty legs. 

“You can’t do that in the car!” he practically shouted. He caught a glimpse of your bare thigh where the fabric was rucked up. He knew his head probably looked like a tomato with so much color. 

“Why not?” you grunted again, getting the fabric over your hips with a lot of wiggling. “You’re not shy, are you?’ you teased. 

Shuhei didn’t answer and you had to grin. He was awfully cute when he was flustered. 

Leaning forward, you unzipped the back of your dress and shimmied to get it away from your skin. You had selected a strapless bra that left nothing to the imagination. 

“Eyes on the road,” you told him cheerfully. 

That didn’t stop him from getting a quick peek of your skin. It was as flawless and creamy soft, just as he had imagined. 

His face was approaching purple now. 

Quickly, you maneuvered the dress down and slipped your worn rock tee over your head. There had probably been a more chaste approach to changing, but it wouldn’t have been as fun. You enjoyed seeing his tanned face redden right to his dark hair. 

He parked across the street from the venue. 

“Where are you going to change?” you asked, eying him. Shuhei hadn’t quite thought that through. 

“Here,” he said. “Now get out.” 

“Why? Shy?” you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“No, I’m your boss.” 

“Okay,” you consented. “But only because of that reason.” You stepped out and gave him his privacy, loosening your hair from pins and giving it a fluff. 

Shuhei took advantage of you being out of the car to breathe deeply for a moment before at least changing his shirt first. He glanced out of the window to see you still standing nearby. Luckily, you were playing on your phone. 

His pants were a little more difficult to shimmy out of and then slide another pair on, but he couldn’t risk opening the door and have you turn to look at him. 

“About ready?” you called. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuhei grumbled, getting out of the car to join you. You had to admire him under the streetlights, his dark jeans fitting tightly, his sleeveless shirt hugging each muscle. He looked positively yummy in street clothes with his visible tattoos. 

At the door, Shuhei paid your cover too, despite your protesting. The walls positively pulsed with sound. The band started and you were a little late, but they were playing your favorite songs. 

“Come on!” you screamed over the din, dragging Shuhei closer to the front. The music throbbed in your chest. 

Your hand was soft and warm in his as Shuhei let himself be dragged forward. He had heard of the band, and pleased you had a similar taste in music. 

Beside him, you were jumping and dancing to the music. Music was a direct line to your soul, you felt it with your whole body. You almost forgot about Shuhei standing there as you moved. 

Shuhei was torn between watching the band and watching you. At the office, you were efficient and graceful. Here, you were like a siren, weaving a story with your body that only he could understand. His groin tightened. If he had found you beautiful before, you were radiant now. 

He was so preoccupied watching you, that neither of you noticed the crowd surfer until he was on top of you. A well-worn converse struck your head and knocked you to the wet, sour concrete floor. 

Without thinking, Shuhei roughly pushed the guy off of you and knelt beside you on the floor. 

“____-chan!” he yelled over noise, trying to help you up. 

“Nnng,” you mumbled. Your head throbbed, but you hadn’t been knocked out cold. That was a promising sign. 

“Come on, let’s get some fresh air,” Shuhei told you, hauling you to your unsteady feet, letting you lean against him as the two of you fought your way to the door. The night air was cool on your flushed skin, but you could feel something warm dripping down the side of your face. 

“Well shit,” you mumbled, touching the blood, seeing it stain your fingers red. 

“You’re bleeding,” Shuhei commented. He hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt and took it off, pressing the fabric to your wound. Just a scuff you were sure. 

Despite the throbbing pain and distraction of his shirt in your eye, you admired his sculpted body as he hovered over you. 

“Headwounds bleed the worst,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah. I should take you to the hospital,” he said, taking your hand and pressing it over his to hold the fabric in place. “You might have a concussion.”

“No! Honestly, it’s just a little cut. I didn’t blackout or anything. I’m fine,” you told him emphatically, even as a wave of nausea washed over you from the blood. 

“You’re a grown woman, I can’t force you to go,” Shuhei growled. “How about I drive you home and hang out for a little while to make sure you’re fine.” 

Your core tightened at the thought of having him in your little apartment in such close quarters, all alone. Shirtless.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off as minorly inconvenient instead of exciting. 

Shuhei tried to get his libido in check at the thought of spending time alone with you in your apartment. On the other hand, he was genuinely concerned you were hurt. That was quite a knock on the head. 

“Come on and keep that thing pressed to your head,” Shuhei told you as he helped you back to his car. He asked for your address once you were tucked into the seat beside him. He was surprised to learn that you didn’t live to far from him. 

You couldn’t tell if the bleeding had stopped. The night was starting to catch up with you a little bit and you leaned against the cool glass. 

“Hey, stay awake!” Shuhei shouted, reaching over to rub your shoulder. 

“I’m awake,” you grumbled. “Just tired.”

“Exactly why I need to take you to the hospital,” Shuhei said. 

“If it doesn’t stop bleeding by the time we’re at my place, then you can take me to the Kurosaki clinic. Isshin can set stitches.” 

Shuhei mumbled something but you couldn’t make it out. Your head was throbbing from the impact and the music. But, it had been fun while it lasted. It had been a long time since someone had wanted to go to a show with you. 

“Did you at least have fun?” you asked, glancing at Shuhei in profile. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to do it again sometime, just maybe make you wear a helmet,” he chuckled. 

“Fair enough. I’m glad you had fun. No one ever wants to go with me.”

“Well, if it always ends in head trauma, I can see why,” Shuhei commented. You weren’t too far from your apartment now. 

“Not always,” you shot back. “Just no one gets the stuff I like.”

“Me either. I’m glad you do,” Shuhei said. “I’ll go with you, even if its just to keep you safe.” Both of you warmed at that comment but neither could see the other’s blush in the dark interior. 

You were glad that it was so late and no one was around in the stairwell to see shirtless Shuhei coming home with you. 

At your apartment, Shuhei helps you in, though you are both stumbling in the dark. After some cursing, he finds the switch and illuminates your space. 

You collapsed on your couch as Shuhei looked around. He took note of all your pictures, your rock memorabilia, your family. The space was comfortable but not stuff; lived in. 

It took all of your concentration not to stare at him, standing half-dressed in your apartment, looking curious about your life. He looked very natural in your environment. 

“Can I offer you something to drink?” you asked. “A cool beer? Just reach in the fridge and get both of us one, huh?” 

“I don’t think you need another drink right now,” Shuhei chided, coming to sit down by you. Gently, his long fingers peeled away his blood-soaked t-shirt. The wound had stopped bleeding so much and didn’t look to be more than a scratch. 

“How does it look?” you asked, fully aware of how close Shuhei was to you now, as he examined the scratch closer. 

He moved some of your soft hair away from the scratch, distracted by how sweet your hair smelled, how silky it was in his fingers, how he wanted to bury his nose in it. 

“Shuhei?” you asked. Your skin was flushed and fiery. 

“Hmm?” he asked, looking dazed. “Oh, fine. It looks fine. Bandages?”

“Bathroom cabinet,” you directed, pointing down the hall. 

Shuhei jumped up, glad for a moment away to collect his thoughts. He was alone in an apartment with you, while you were vulnerable and looking so beautiful, and he was shirtless. Many guys would have considered this a great opportunity, but Shuhei didn’t want you to be just another conquest. 

As he wetted a washcloth to clean away the blood from your face, he considered the fact that he wanted a relationship with you. You were so easy to be around. He dug around in your cabinet for bandages and returned to the living room. 

You were in the midst of removing your own shirt, which had been stained with your blood. He was transfixed on how your slender limbs moved, the rise and fall of your generous chest, the swell of your breasts in the constraining bra. 

Glancing up, you caught sight of him looking at you. 

“Sorry? I wanted to get out of this sticky shirt,” you said. Strangely, you didn’t mind that he was looking at you, eyes dark with growing lust. 

“Yeah, your apartment. Do what you need to do,” Shuhei said, trying to avert his gaze as he walked over to you. 

“Now we’re both shirtless,” you joked. 

Shuhei grinned as he held your chin and dabbed away the blood from the side of your face. He was so gentle, so careful, more so than you would think just going by his outward appearance. You closed your eyes and hummed. 

“Like that huh?” he asked, putting a smear of liquid bandage over the cut. You hissed at the sting. 

To combat this reaction, Shuhei threaded his fingers in your hair and combed the strands. He didn’t think he could hold himself in check much longer. 

“Nnng,” you grunted. It stung as it closed. 

“How about this?” Shuhei asked, feeling bold, closing his lips over yours. He could taste the lingering beer and something sweet, maybe lip gloss. He felt your body mold against his, fitting perfectly into his chest. 

He deepened the kiss, running his tongue over the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open as he plundered it. You felt so warm against him as he cradled you to his body. 

Shuhei’s hands roamed over the silkiness of your exposed flesh, feeling each dip and curve. You moaned into the kiss, holding his strong shoulders as the two you were buried deeper in the couch. 

“May I?” he asked, breaking the kiss and holding the clasps on your bra.

“Mmm, yes please,” you moaned, snuggling into his shoulder and breathing in his cologne.

He freed your breasts, tossing the bra across your living room. He fondled and stroked the globes, flicking his thumbs over your pert nipples. You fit beautifully into his hands. 

Gently, he lowered his mouth to one of the buds, hooded eyes looking up at you as he sucked. You canted your head back as pleasure spiked through you, pooling in your belly. His tongue laved around your dusky areola, skimming your bud, as he sucked hard. 

His fingers lightly scraped your back as he kept you pressed against his mouth. 

“Oh Shuhei,” you breathed. His mouth was practically sinful. You threaded your fingers in his short, dark hair. He grunted against your breast at the contact. 

He kissed around the bottom of your globe, the valley between your breasts, making his way to the other breast to ravish it. Your core clenched as he latched onto the other nipple. The other was delightfully damp as the cool air of your apartment hit it, gooseflesh appearing over the abandoned breast. 

He gently kissed the nipple and kissed his way back to the valley of your breasts. He pressed his soft lips to the sensitive skin of your abdomen, his tongue coming out to lap a trail down your stomach and around your belly button. You panted and moaned, having to relinquish your hold on his hair as he moved lower. 

Shuhei pushed you back down into the couch cushions as he continued kissing and licking to the top of your waistband. Under long lashes, he looked up at you, taking in your flushed face, your panting mouth, and fine sheen of sweat. 

He slowly unzipped your jeans, revealing a pair of black lace underwear. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your jeans and pulled them down your hips, your thighs, with some shimmying from you, pausing to pull your flats off, until you were just in underwear. 

You blushed as Shuhei hovered above you, drinking in the sight of your nearly naked body. He licked his lips as he fingered the lace of your panties. He loved the way the material hugged your hips but thought they would look better on the floor. 

“Nnng, Shuhei,” you mumbled. 

“You’re stunning,” he said. “And I’m a lucky man.” He kissed the spot just below your belly button as he opened your thighs. 

He could smell your sweet scent now. One finger lazily traced your wet slit through the lace of your soaked panties. You moaned, back arching. He continued teasing you through the fabric, careful not to apply too much pressure. 

Deciding that you had enough torture for now, Shuhei relented and dipped a finger beneath the fabric, touching the velvety soft folds, stroking them open enough for him to insert the tip of his finger into your wet heat. 

Your toes curled, your calves tightening as he continued to set you on fire. Youi had no clear idea how this night was ending up this way, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was what he was doing to you now. 

Slowly, Shuhei slid his finger in and out of your slick channel, crooking it once inside to brush that spongy, sensitive spot that made your eyes roll with pleasure. 

“Mmm,” you sighed. He added another finger, making you gasp with surprise as he quickened his pace, crossing the fingers to add more girth. 

“Oh, Shuhei! I’m going to, nng, come!” you cried, breast heaving as you struggled on the couch. 

“That’s the plan,” Shuhei said, voice low with lust, dark eyes watching each twitch of your body.

He continued his pace, feeling your walls pulse and flutter around his fingers, trying to draw him deeper. The coil of gratification behind your belly button had finally unwound and broken. Shuhei pumped his fingers inside you a few more times, milking the last of your orgasm from you. 

Keeping his eyes trained on you, Shuhei lapped your juices from his fingers. You were a good mix of salt and sweet, just what he liked about you. 

Your body flushed, watching him. 

“Let me do something for you, baby,” you panted, trying to sit up. 

Shuhei looked at you, clearly surprised. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked. 

“Let me taste you,” you told him, untangling yourself from the couch and getting down on the floor. Shuhei, sensing your idea, arranged his legs so that you fit between them. 

Watching his face, you slowly unzipped him and freed his rock-hard member. You palmed him, feeling the silky hard flesh, the weight in your hand. 

You licked his shaft, base to tip before closing your mouth over the helmet, your tongue teasing the pre-come out of his slit. You watched his head cant back into the back of the couch as he pushed his hips forward. 

As you took him further in your mouth, one of his big hands came up to thread in your hair. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deep, using your free hand to grip what you couldn’t fit. He was salty and a little bitter. You used your tongue to lave him, tracing patterns and sucking just the tip. 

“Nnnn, ____!” he moaned. “Oh, ______!”

You smirked and continued your ministrations, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. 

Shuhei couldn’t see straight with the way you were taking him. The strands of pleasure were starting to weave together, and he knew he would come soon. 

He tried to warn you, but all he could do was moan and grip your hair. 

His hot seed filled your mouth, bitter, salty, and warm as it slid down your throat. You sucked the last vestiges of pleasure from him, watching his bare chest move as he panted, flushed. 

You sat, looking up at him, watching his eyelashes flicker as he tried to regain some sense of self. 

“How did the evening turn out like this?” Shuhei asked, breathlessly, trying to pull you up into his lap. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But I’m not complaining.” 

“Me either,” Shuhei said, as you straddled his lap and kissed him deeply. He didn’t mind the taste of himself if it was coming through you. 

You rolled and undulated your hips over his, feeling him grow hard again, as you rubbed his growing velvety erection between your slick folds. 

He grunted against your neck, “I want to feel you. Will you let me?”

“Mmm, yes,” you moaned, gripping his shaft and directing him towards your hole. 

You both moaned as the big tip slipped past the tight ring of muscles and into your slick heat. Inch by inch, you slid down his shaft until he was buried inside you to the hilt. 

You gripped his shoulders, gazing into his dark eyes. There was of course, lust, but something more. Want. 

Slowly, you lifted your hips, watching his head sink back into the cushions as you rubbed him in such an intimate way. 

“Gods, you feel so good,” he moaned, gripping your hips tight enough to leave little bruises from his fingers. You liked the idea of being marked by him. He bucked his hips up into you, hitting that same spot from earlier and you saw stars. 

“Faster,” you panted, needing more of him, “Shu-hei.” The coil behind your belly button was back and each thrust was starting to unravel it. 

He bucked his hips up into you, needing to fill you with each delicious stroke. You fit so snugly around him, as if you were made for him. 

And you were, he thought, as he watched your breasts bounce, your head roll back, and your back arch. You were the woman he had been searching for. 

Each new thrust brought sunbursts behind your eyes and you knew you were not going to last much longer. Little sounds tumbled from your mouth as you ground into him. 

“Mmm, I can’t, Shu-hei, I’m going to-“ You tried to tell him as your core muscles clenched down on his shaft like a vise, pulling him deeper inside of you. 

“Shit! Gods, nng,” he grunted, as your body pulled his own release from him. He felt it, hot and wet inside your clenching channel. “_____.” 

He repeated your name a few more times, as he drew you to his sweaty chest, holding you in the circle of his strong arms. He cradled you there for a long time, both of you catching your breath. 

“Well, I had hoped to ask you out more formally,” Shuhei finally said. 

“But it might not have been as fun,” you teased. “Head wounds make any date better.” 

Shuhei laughed, low and rumbling, vibrating against your chest. 

“The thing about head wounds is,” Shuhei said, adjusting you so that he could stand up with you in his arms, “is that you have to keep the patient awake for a certain number of hours.”

“Oh yes, wouldn’t want me going to sleep,” you agreed as he started walking down the hallway to the only logical place your bedroom could be. 

“No, because you know, coma and stuff. So, I guess I’m going to have to stay and keep you awake,” Shuhei told you, his face the epitome of seriousness. 

“Oh yes. No question about it, Doctor Hisagi. I’ve got a few ideas on how you can,” you told him, devilish smirk in place. 

“Yeah, me too,” Shuhei grinned as he tossed you on your bed and closed the door. 


	6. Grimmjow x Reader – I Need a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very AU/Alien world, auction, Grimmjow is a hero but not the right kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for more Grimmjow. Always happy to oblige! Might start out a little dark but bear with me. Little bit of a slave relationship, but it will become a contest of who really owns who by the end, if you know what I mean. Wanted to try a little different backstory this time. Starting to catch up some. Had a huge paper that had to be finished and turned in by a deadline for review.

You couldn’t remember exactly how you found yourself nearly naked in front of this crowd of men. You shivered, the cool air creating gooseflesh on your skin. Things were being shouted, cat calls, offers, positions. 

Pleading, you looked to the emcee. He had sympathetic brown eyes; brown hair combed back. He merely smiled and directed his focus back to the rowdy crowd. 

“Our next item is a beautiful piece from the Terran World, a lost relic. She’ll be a willing partner with enough work. You have to break her in. She is not pure either. I’ll start the bidding at 5,000.” 

Suddenly, numbers were being shouted and the crowd surged. 

To your credit, you didn’t cry. You just stood. Waiting for some sense to made out of the situation. Your head was fuzzy.

Far in the back, a man watched you. All you could make out about him from this distance was his bright blue hair and a bone outline of a jaw on the right side of his face.

Grimmjow didn’t usually care for the revelry of Aizen-dono’s monthly auction. He needed no subordinates. He usually tended to his own physical needs or took a volunteer. And often, the creatures Aizen brought were sub-par. 

But you, unblemished flesh, lightly muscled, and curvy. You caught his eye. Unlike a lot of the specimens, you didn’t cry or beg. You held your chin high, resigned to your fate, whatever it was. He had a feeling you didn’t know or were too drugged up to understand. 

At the front of the makeshift stage, Grimm could see Nnoitra trying his damnedest to win you. 

Che, that would never do. A beautiful Terran as yourself would be wasted on that fool Nnoitra. 

“20,000,” he found himself saying. All heads turned to stare at him. Nnoitra’s one visible eye narrowed, lips pulling back in a snarl. 

“Shut the fuck up Jagerjaeques! 20,500.” 

“30,000,” Grimmjow said, parting the crowd to come forward. Most of the bottom-feeders there were terrified of him. 

Nnoitra was practically gnashing his teeth. Grimmjow smirked. 

“30,500,” Nnoitra retorted. 

“100,000 credits,” Grimmjow snapped. 

Aizen-dono knew he was good for it. Grimmjow hardly ever spent money; there wasn’t much he wanted to spend it on. 

From the stage, you watched the exchange between the men. You didn’t want the one with the huge collar, you knew that. There was something terribly wrong with him. 

There was something predatory about the other choice, but it seemed a different feeling. 

“100,000, going once,” Aizen said. “Going twice…” 

Grimmjow waited for Nnoitra to jump, but he didn’t. 

“Sold to Grimmjow Jagerjaeques. Come collect your prize.” He moved aside so that Grimmjow could hop up on the stage. You steeled yourself not to flinch. 

Up close, Grimmjow had the most electric blue eyes you had ever seen. There were some cat-like markings beneath them of an almost teal that brought the color out. He grinned, feral, teeth sharp in the dim light. 

He _prowled_ around you, taking in each curve, each section of bared flesh, all for his pleasure whatever that may be. You shivered, standing there in just scraps of cloth that barely covered your most intimate parts. His hungry gaze was like a physical touch, ghosting over you. 

There were hungry shouts from the crowd about what to do with you on the stage. You tried to keep your focus on your would-be hero. 

“Mark her like the animal you are,” Aizen told him with a nasty grin. “Before you leave, so that everyone knows.” 

Grimmjow rolled his eyes but studied your long column of a throat. 

It would look perfect with his teeth buried in the side, red marks on each and every surface. He was almost sorry to say that he salivated for a second. 

As he gripped the base of your neck, you let out an involuntary whimper, though whether it was pain or pleasure remained to be seen. 

Grimmjow found the sound had a direct line to his groin. He wondered what other sounds you would make before the night was over. 

He licked from the base to your jaw, tracing over your major artery. You shivered in his grasp, at odds that something so feral could be so gentle. His sharp teeth grazed the thin skin as he suckled on your flesh, the smooth bones and teeth of the appendage rubbed your skin. 

Your eyes widened as pleasure rolled through your body. You moaned, feeling limp in his grasp. 

Grimmjow took this opportunity to pierce your flesh, lapping the droplets of your sweet blood, savoring them. If you blood tasted this good, he wanted to know how the rest of you tasted. 

“Come on, woman,” Grimmjow growled. He’d had enough of showing off for Aizen’s little power games and the masses. He wanted you alone where he could explore you at his leisure. He pushed you ahead of him, holding fast to your neck with one hand to steer you. 

The grip was not loving, but possessive. You didn’t care, as long as he got you away from that room. 

“What’s your name?” Grimmjow asked, though he would still probably call you ‘woman.’

“____,” you said as he pushed you through a set of ornate doors into the night. 

He tasted your name several times, shivers rolling down your spine each time. Grimmjow liked the way it felt in his mouth. A good strong name. 

“Where are we?” you asked, pausing to gaze up into an unfamiliar night sky. There was just a moon and it wasn’t full. 

“Planet Hueco Mundo,” he answered tersely, pushing you along again.

You were aware of the bitingly cold wind now, as it tore through the scraps of fabric that had been hastily tied around your breasts and hips before the auction. The phrase, ‘no one is gonna buy the cow if you get the milk for free,’ came to mind and you bit back the urge to laugh. 

The more you walked in the cool night air, the clearer your head became being away from the stuffy auction house.

Grimmjow studied your gooseflesh, torn between seeing how much you could tolerate and giving you his heavy white coat to protect his investment. If you’re going to be traveling with him, you need to be tougher than most.

After a few more steps he relented, throwing the heavy fabric around your shoulders as the two of you continued across the desert to his ship. 

“You were lucky,” Grimmjow remarked, “that I was around today.” 

You say nothing, instinct assuring you he was right, as you snuggled deeper into his coat. It smelled of aftershave and musk. 

Grimmjow was only slightly curious how you had ended up in Aizen’s cantina as a harem offering. But he wasn’t curious enough to ask. Hardly anyone came from the Terran World now, especially someone as beautiful as you. 

His ship was black, sleek, and somewhat feline – which didn’t surprise you given how Grimmjow looked. He pushed a button on the underside and a ramp let down for the two of you to walk up. 

Grimmjow pushed you up the ramp and into the warmth of the cabin. He kicked his shoes off by the door. The place was clean, decorated in neutral grey with black and white accents. You could see the cockpit beyond the living area, a galley kitchen, and bedroom. 

The ramp closed behind you with a soft ‘hiss.’ It struck you that you were away from that awful place. Your knees shook and you threatened to give way. Your last few hours had been hell of cramped, smelly spaces and creatures looking at you like a meal. 

Before that…was just a blur. You were pretty sure you had been drugged with something and it was probably still in your system. You could see obvious needle tracks and bruises littering your arms. 

Looking up, you catch Grimmjow’s predatory gaze on you. Quickly, you shrug out of his coat and hand it back, trying not to stare at the solid wall of muscle. He didn’t even seem phased by the cold. He was carved, every muscle outlined with dips and curves. 

You blushed and studied the wall. You could do worse for a new owner. He was at least good-looking in a feral, predator way.

“Thank you, Grimmjow-sama,” you quietly. 

“Che, don’t thank me. You need a shower,” he tells you, pushing you towards the bedroom. He threw the coat over a couch. 

“Stop pushing,” you comment, moving away from him. “I’m not going to try to escape.” You damn sure weren’t going back to the one called Aizen and that holding pen. You were a product, not an idiot.

Behind you, Grimm smiled toothily; you had spirit, he had to give you that. He wondered just how much docility he would have to put up with from you. It wasn’t as much fun if you were no more than a doll. Aizen had promised a fiery spirit, hadn’t he? 

A huge bed took up most of the space, with a small and practical bath off to the side. 

There was a glass shower with a huge showerhead on it. You almost moaned in relief. You felt filthy. 

“Strip,” Grimmjow commanded. 

Your body broke out in gooseflesh again at his order. You considered resisting, but you knew you needed to clean up anyway.

His hungry gaze awakened your core; you felt it tighten. The little scraps of fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination anyway. You pulled them off and handed them to Grimmjow. 

He pulled a face and disposed of them. He pushed a button on the wall and the water started in a steamy cascade. Grimm jerked his head, indicating you should get in. 

The moment the water hit your bare body, you made little sounds of pleasure. You could practically see the grime disappearing down the drain. You didn’t care if Grimmjow stood there and watched. 

Outside the glass, Grimmjow watched your delicate hands moisten your flesh. He didn’t think you were putting on a show, not yet, and liked this natural tableau. You picked up his soap, your hands working the bar into a rich lather, which you spread on your ample chest first. 

As he watched, you left no curve unexplored. You cupped your generous assets, working soap in, as you moved down your abdomen and hips. He gulped as you polished shapely thighs and calves with just your fingers. His pants were feeling very uncomfortable and tight. 

You moaned with pleasure as you soaped your locks, combing your fingers through the strands to clean them. He couldn’t deny that he wanted your well-rounded little mouth wrapped around his cock later. In the rising steam, you looked like a goddess from his mythology lessons. 

The water slicked down your body, washing the last traces of the nightmare away, and easing your tense muscles. 

If his shower was this good, you would consider keeping his company for a while. You didn’t know how to get home from where you were, couldn’t even begin to figure out whether home was in the same galaxy or not. Other than being a little pushy with you, this man hadn’t been too bad. You could run, you supposed, but it wouldn’t be your smartest move. 

“Finished,” you told him.

Grimmjow shook himself back to reality, hit the button, and handed you a towel. It was homespun and functional. You dried off but didn’t see any clothes waiting. 

“Che, come on,” he said, opening the glass door and letting the remainder of the steam out. 

“Clothes?” you asked, a little chill coming over you from the change in temperature. 

“You don’t need them,” Grimmjow said. He made to grab for you, but you stepped back. 

“I don’t _need_ them,” you agreed, “but isn’t it more fun to unwrap a present?” 

Blue eyes widened as he seemed to consider your question. Grimmjow liked seeing you naked, but you had a point. The more warmed up you got, the more troublesome you became. 

“Che,” he said and walked out in search of something for you to wear. 

You smirked, small victory. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten either. Nausea and bile rose in a wave that had you panting against the wall of the shower, holding your stomach. 

“Here, woman,” Grimmjow said, coming back in with a white shitagi he had picked up somewhere. He had a kosode but he wanted a little victory too. The shitagi was little more than an undershirt and would barely cover you, as was his hope. “What now?” he demanded, upon seeing you leaning against the wall. 

His stomach turned as he realized that the drug was finally leaving your system and that you probably starving. Whatever Aizen injected you with was meant to keep you happy and compliant for a time. 

“Come on,” he said, his voice slightly softer as he stepped in the shower and pulled your wrist. Woodenly, you slid your arms into the shitagi and tried to pull it around to meet. It didn’t quite but you kept it closed with your arms over your waist. 

The two of you walked wordlessly to the small kitchen. You would be no good to him if you were hungry. He heated some broth as you watched. 

“Thank you,” you said, trying not to let the bile escape. 

Grimmjow glanced at you but didn’t say anything. He handed you the broth and you sipped the warm liquid. Your stomach stopped trying to crawl up your throat. 

“If you keep that down, I’ll give you something else,” he said, searching a cabinet for some crackers or tea. 

You nodded your understanding again, trying to take little sips. This felt like the best meal you had ever had; you had never felt so hungry.

When you had finished the broth and it stayed down, Grimm handed you a steaming cup of tea. The liquid was soothing on your throat. Finally, he rationed out crackers until you felt your stomach stop complaining. 

Grimmjow, like any experienced hunter, knew that he was going to have to get your trust. So far, he had let you get cleaned up, provided you with clothing (sort of), and now had fed you. 

Looking at you now, there was color in your cheeks once more and sleepy, almost comfortable look about your features. You didn’t resemble the dirty, scared thing he had brought aboard. 

“Bed,” he commanded. If he met one more of your base needs, you would probably be more compliant. He wanted you at your full potential and he wasn’t going to get that if you half-starved and sleep deprived. 

With your stomach full, cleaned up, and out of immediate danger, all you could think about right now was laying your head down. You didn’t protest. 

The bedroom was cool and dark, the pillow smooth under your cheek. You were asleep as soon as you touched down. Grimmjow stretched out beside you, hands resting on his chest as he considered his next move to tame you. 

He preferred the word ‘tame’ not ‘break,’ because if something ‘broke,’ it had to be ‘fixed.’ He wanted you willing, he wanted you to enjoy, but he also wanted to enjoy you. After all, he didn’t drop 100,000 credits for nothing. 

In the darkness, he listened to the familiar thrumming of the ship and your deep, even breaths. 

Sometime later, you awoke in dim lighting to something lapping at your neck. You tried to get your bearings, despite the pleasure rollicking through you.

Mmm. Auction. Food. Shower. Grimmjow. 

You felt heat wrapped around you, the heaviness of an unfamiliar body. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed, as the tongue traced your vein again, like before. Your core was tight, aching for fulfillment. 

“Mhm,” he growled in response, nipping at the sensitive skin. He moved lower, sucking the crook of your neck and shoulder. Stray strands of blue hair tickled your flesh, the bones of the face appendage brushed against your flesh again, sparks of desire zinging through you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as he licked and nipped your shoulder and moving to your collarbone. You knew that you would be covered in little red and purple marks later, but it was worth it. 

Grimmjow was aching to taste your sweet blood again. He was careful to sample your neck again, piercing the thin flesh with his sharp teeth and greedily drinking up the droplets. You arched against him, legs falling open in hopes of accommodating him. 

Gods, he wanted just to plunge into your tight depths, but he also wanted to enjoy every inch of you. Like a present, your shitagi fell open to reveal your beautiful body to him.

He moved to your breasts, his tongue tracing the supple curve of the right one as his big hand came up to tease the quickly peaking bud. 

“Oh, shit,” you moaned, arching your neck. Your toes were curling into little balls. 

“Che, try this,” Grimmjow rumbled. His tongue darted out to taste your dusky areola before he captured your other pert nipple in his mouth, sucking greedily. Electric blue eyes watched you roll your head back into the pillows, your grip on his shoulders almost painful. 

No one had taken their time like this with you. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed, vision blurring as Grimmjow licked a trail between your breasts, voracious mouth hooking onto the other nipple. He was all lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers. 

You tasted so good; he could just devour you. If you skin was this sweet, he wondered what your core tasted like. His dexterous fingers pinched and rolled the opposite damp nipple to an almost unbearable hardness. 

“Fuck,” Grimmjow moaned as he released your nipple with a wet ‘pop.’ He slid down the bed, raking his hands up and down your sides, feeling your curves meld into your hips. He dipped his tongue into the soft line down your abdomen to your bellybutton. 

You were panting and trying not to writhe as he kissed and nipped each hip bone. He kissed the top of your pubis, just to tease you. 

“Nnng,” you groaned. 

He smiled up at you wickedly as he began ravishing the crook of a thigh. He nipped and lapped the inside of your thigh, lifting your knee and sucking the back of your knee. You moaned, arching, as he manipulated the soft spot. Your body was afire with pleasure. 

Grimmjow adjusted himself, his cock rock-hard, straining against the zipper of his pants. He had never had a lover quite like you. There had been few and far willing volunteers and none of them had the reaction you were having. 

He nipped red spots onto your unblemished calves and switched legs, working his way back up in the same, measured torture. Out of desperation, you fisted the bedspread to ground yourself. 

Your core was tight and begging for relief. 

Teasingly, Grimmjow traced his fingers up the slit, watching it open like an orchid. Long fingers teased the folds, feeling you throb with desire. 

“What do you want kitten?” he asked, voice low and husky. 

“Mmmf, your fingers,” you shivered. “Inside me.” 

“Like this?” he purred, pushing just the tip of a big finger inside. Your inner muscles clenched down on him unexpectedly, making him grunt. 

Slowly, he pumped his finger into your wetness, feeling every inch of your ribbed walls. You sighed and hummed with delight. 

Grimmjow crooked his finger, searching for that special, spongy spot he knew would make you scream. 

“Oh fuck,” you hissed, arching up from the spread. You were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, glistening in the low light of the bedroom. 

He added a second finger, continuing to pump into you as an imitation of what he wanted to do with his cock later. He scissored and twisted his fingers, trying to stretch you in preparation. 

“Ah, aha, ah,” you moaned, the hot coil of your orgasm starting to unwind as he lazy flicked his wrist, now three fingers buried inside you. 

“Yes?” he asked languidly, soft blue head propped against one thigh. 

“I’m going to c-come,” you cried. 

He stilled his movements and removed his fingers. 

“Not without my permission,” he growled, lowering his mouth to your damp folds. Your hand came up to thread in his wild blue hair. 

He nuzzled at the moist pleats, your scent intoxicating just like your drops of blood from earlier. Grimmjow slurped up the fluid collected there. Gods, you tasted so intoxicating, like a drug. He sucked on your folds, trying to get every drop of your sweet nectar. 

“Nnng,” you groaned as you tried to hold on. 

The bones and teeth on the side of your protector’s face provided a tantalizing contrast to the silken skin your inner thigh as you squeezed your legs together to hold him in place. 

“Che,” he chided, strong hands coming up to push your thighs apart again, almost bruising with their force. His tongue pushed inside your wet heat, thrusting in and out slowly as he kneaded your thighs. 

Your need to come was almost blinding, painful. 

“Please,” you begged softly. “Please Grimmjow-sama,” you moaned. 

Reluctantly, he released your core long enough to encourage you, “Yes, fucking come for me,” he growled. 

Your toes curled as your orgasm unfurled, hot and powerful in your abdomen. You howled his name as your walls fluttered around his tongue. 

Ravenously, Grimmjow drank your orgasm down, fluids dribbling down his chin as he rode out your waves. Slowly, he sucked the last of your syrup down, cleaning your core and folds before he withdrew. 

“Fuck,” he said again, crawling up your panting, sated body to kiss you. “Taste yourself,” he growled, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He nipped your bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth and suckling. 

You could taste your sweet fluids as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, massaging. You could taste his saltiness mixed with your saccharinity. You moaned into the kiss, despite feeling like jelly. 

“Gods,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours. “You’re amazing.” 

You flushed and looked away at his compliment. You still couldn’t recall much about the Terran World, but you were sure you were nothing special from there. 

Grimmjow rose up on his knees, unzipping his pants, and freeing his rock-hard member. 

You found yourself staring, wondering how he was going to fit inside you. Not only was he girthy, but he was long too. 

“I need you to fucking suck me,” Grimmjow said, pulling you up to a sitting position. 

Your head swam for a few seconds, the room moving. Your shook your head to clear it. You knelt, taking the silken organ in your hand, giving him a few pumps, hefting the weight and length. 

“Mmm, that’s it,” Grimmjow moaned. He guided your head down, preparing to take him. 

You took the engorged, leaking tip in your mouth, licking the slit to tease his salty, bitter pre-come out. Both big hands came up to thread in your thick hair, trying to draw you down his member. 

Instead, you released the tip and licked the big vein from base to helmet on the underside of his cock. Grimmjow sighed as you slowly pleasured him. 

You came back to his tip, taking more of the smooth flesh in your mouth this time. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you took in your hand, stroking in time with your bobbing. Looking up at him beneath thick lashes, you could see the carved muscles trembling, his head canted back, and teeth bared. 

He was so beautiful and primal. You knew you weren’t going to try to escape. He had been nothing but good to you so far. 

Instead, you hollowed your cheeks and used your tongue to lave his member as you sucked hungrily. Your core clenched as you took in his little movements of pleasure. You instinctively figured he wouldn’t want to be teased right now. 

Grimmjow felt his pleasure unfolding low and warm in his belly; Gods your mouth was perfect. 

His cock twitched in your mouth and you knew he was probably close. 

“Nnng, stop, not yet,” he groaned, reluctantly pulling your sensuous mouth away. 

You panted, looking up at him. Your rescuer. 

The shitagi was now scratchy against your flushed skin. You shrugged it off and flung it across the room. 

He gently pushed you back on the bed and knelt between your parted legs, lifting them up to his shoulders as he hovered over you. 

You felt the hot, damp tip pushing your folds aside. He pushed in, stretching you, and paused. Those blue eyes bore down on you, watching your expression change from a wince to acceptance. He pushed the hard, silken length into you in one smooth motion. 

You had never had something that big inside you, filling you to the hilt, brushing your cervix. Your core clenched involuntarily around his girth and he grunted. 

Gods, you tight, Grimmjow realized. You fit him like a second skin. He felt your walls pulse. He was inside you to the hilt, his weighty testicles brushing your bottom. 

“Mmm, Grimmjow-sama,” you moaned. You had never been so full and cried out when he started pulling back.

“Just Grimmjow,” he said. He slowly inched his hips back, enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him. He held your legs steady as he moved in you again. 

“Ah,” you sighed as he thrust in again, right to the hilt. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” Grimmjow growled. You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

He increased his pace, the wet sounds of your bodies coming together and your breathy pants filling the otherwise quiet room. 

He changed his angle, kneeling and holding your legs open as wide as possible as he drew your body to his with each thrust. He snapped his hips into you, balls slapping your rear with each thrust. 

“Grimm,” you moaned, unable to get the rest of his name out with the ferocious pounding he was giving your pussy. He hit the sensitive spot inside your body, and you screamed, wild and animalistic. 

“That’s it,” he grunted, “keep screaming for me woman.” 

Your hips would be littered with little bruises from his fingertips but that would be worth it. Your nails found his meaty back, digging in and leaving little crescent shapes. 

He leaned in, capturing you lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You felt just the tip of the bone structure on the side of his face. 

The hot coil of pleasure was starting to unwind behind your bellybutton again and Grimm’s thrusts had gotten more erratic.

Your throat was raw and your screams hoarse as he continued. 

“Grimm,” you screamed, “I’m gonna come.” 

“That’s right,” he panted, “let me feel you come for me.” 

Your orgasm ripped through you at his words, as you clawed at his chest. You saw stars as your walls clenched and fluttered. 

Grimmjow felt your inner walls grip him, pulling him deeper, brushing your cervix again. 

“Nnng,” he grunted as his own orgasm unfurled, hot seed releasing inside your pulsing body. “____.” 

After a few more sloppy thrusts, he stopped, sweat pouring down his face and onto you. Slowly, he withdrew, stood, and kicked off his pants. You couldn’t move. 

Grimmjow disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a cool washcloth. Surprisingly gentle, he wiped your inner thighs and the vee, cleaning away the liquids. 

You nodded, grateful, eyelids heavy with impending sleep. Now that you were lying still for a moment, you could feel the thrumming of the ship beneath you, an almost purring like a big animal. 

When Grimmjow returned from wiping himself off, he found you nearly asleep. He lay down beside you on the bed, pulling you into the circle of his strong arms.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his chest, your wayward hair tickling his heated skin. 

“Che, for what?” he grumbled, pushing the strands back in place. 

“For saving me,” you said.

“I’m not a hero.” 

“Whatever you say,” you yawned, curling in even closer. You were breathing deeply and evenly against him before he could protest. 

He rolled his eyes but held you tighter, knowing that you were right. He had saved you because there was something intoxicating about you. He couldn’t wait for you to wake up again so that he could explore it more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still open to requests :) Next is Dom! Reader x Sub! Renji by request.


	7. [Sub! Abarai Renji x Dom! Reader – Fan Boy]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was obviously a newbie, tan skin flushed red the more he looked around. He had bright red hair pulled high off his tattooed forehead into a widow’s peak. He was so flustered it was cute. You were sure you had never seen him before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: love this fic! didnt know a sub!ulquiorra was something i wanted but i love it!  
> if you're still taking requests, can i get a dom!reader x renji, shinji oe shunsui??  
> Author’s Note: Always happy to oblige. I haven’t tortured Renji yet and would love to play with him. Little different backstory for this one too, experienced porn star and newbie porn recruit. If this scenario works out though, I could do a continuation for the other two. Let me know 😊

Your eyes caught the obvious newbie as he walked on set. You had been lounging around with a vibrator trying to prepare yourself for a day of shooting. The fact that you needed the money was the only thing keeping you on set today. You were bored out of your mind. 

Your regular co-star had cancelled at the last minute and they had been trying to find you a replacement. You couldn’t really blame your co-star; pushing him around was your job after all. Both of you knew the other’s moves and it wasn’t exciting. It all felt rote when you would do scenes together, hard to keep yourself excited. You needed something fresh.

But the newbie…

He was obviously a newbie, tan skin flushed red the more he looked around. He had bright red hair pulled high off his tattooed forehead into a widow’s peak. He was so flustered it was cute. You were sure you had never seen him before. 

The director steered him towards you. 

“I’m Abarai Renji,” the newbie bowed, hair a curtain of flames over his face. “Nice to meet you ____-san. I’ve seen your work.”

“Oh? A fan?” you asked, clicking the vibrator off. If this was your partner for the day, you weren’t going to need the stimulus. Your core clenched just catching sight of his taunt muscles beneath the form-fitting t-shirt and low-riding pants. 

As he stood, he blushed, right to the roots of his hair. “You could say that,” he mumbled. 

“You’re in very capable hands,” you told him, noting the obvious bulge in his pants. “Very capable.” 

“Give us twenty minutes to get him ready, ____-chan,” your director told you, taking Renji back towards wardrobe. 

You shrugged as you were given a costume to work into. 

In costuming, all Renji could think about was how gorgeous you were in person. He felt stupid for telling you he had seen your work, knowing that he had used it for jerking himself off. Though you had seemed flattered, with your bright smile. 

He couldn’t believe the sight of you lounging in the chair with the vibrator had given him a raging hard-on right away. He had done a few films before and felt somewhat unprofessional. But you were so beautiful; your power over the men in your scenes, how you were demanding but sensuous and not terrifying. And your pleasure. Gods, your face when you were ready to come. 

While Renji was usually the dominate one in his scenes, he had volunteered for a chance to be dominated by you. It was his dream. You were the reason he had sought this line of work anyway, as he hoped for a chance to finally work with you. He didn’t mind the work, there just hadn’t been much of it to come by and he only had a few clips under his belt. 

“Well, you won’t need any fluffing,” the costumer said as Renji changed into a more business-like attire. “You’re all ready to go.” 

“Yeah,” Renji agreed, gritting his teeth as he tried to fit his erection in the tight pants of the suit. He was led back on set after being briefed about the scenario – he was businessman who hired a dominator for the night. Go from there. 

You were waiting for him on set, breasts barely restrained in a black, lacy bra, hips enclosed in a pair of lacy panties, garter belt, and stockings, with stripper heels. It was your signature look. Renji melted, feeling like a schoolboy again. 

The room had the feel of a hotel room, sparsely decorated with a bed and chair. 

“Just ignore the cameras,” you whispered to him. “Focus on me and follow my lead.” 

They called for the scene to start and it was like a switch had been flipped. 

You shoved Renji into the chair and straddled him, slender fingers tangling in his ponytail. 

“You’ve been a bad boy,” you tell him, voice husky. “And now you need to be punished.”

All Renji could do was stare up at you, open mouthed as you undulated in his lap. 

“Don’t you?” you asked, tugging his ponytail. 

“Y-yes,” he stammered. 

Gods he was cute looking up at you, eyes wide, lap bulging. 

“Good boy,” you praised, releasing his hair. “Very good.” You leaned over and sucked on his earlobe, feeling his hips buck into yours. “Mmm, but you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Sorry, ___-sama,” Renji blurted out, face turning red. 

You reached for the tie around his neck, loosening it with deft motions and removing it from his neck.

“When you play by the rules, you get a big reward,” you lectured him, pressing your breasts near his face. 

His tongue licked his suddenly chapped lips. He brought his hands up, hoping to touch one of the tantalizing globes, but you captured his hands with the silk, restraining them. You laughed, low and alluring.

“You are an eager one,” you told him. “I’m going to have to train you, aren’t I?” 

“Please train me, ____-sama,” he moaned, as you rubbed over his hardened member again. 

“Let’s start with asking permission. When you want something, you have to ask me for it,” you tell him, touching the side of his face. 

“Yes, ___-sama.”

“Good boy. Do you want me to rub these luscious breasts over your face?”

“Please?” Renji asked, leaning forward eagerly. 

“I would love to,” you say, “but you’ve got to phrase it in a question.” You leaned back on his lap, just out of reach.

“Please, ____-sama, will you rub your breasts on my face?” 

“Yes, baby.” You moved forward and pushed the unblemished flesh in his face, rubbing them on his sharp cheeks, covered with the just a hint of stubble. You moaned before he did, and the sound wasn’t faked. Your core clenched around nothing, eager for fulfillment. 

Just a brush of your mounds wasn’t enough for him. He wanted the flesh beneath the scraps of lace. Renji had totally forgotten about the cameras, about the room full of people, watching the two of you. 

“____-sama, may I taste your breasts?” he asked, deep brown eyes staring up at you. 

“You’re learning,” you said breathlessly, pulling the lace of the cups down, freeing pert buds and dusky areolas set in smooth globes. “Yes, you may. Suck on them, baby.” 

You lifted a bud to his warm face, watching as the bud and areola disappeared into his sensuous mouth. You gasped, smirking with pleasure, and moaning. Brown eyes closed as he nipped your bud with his teeth then soothing the hurt with his tongue. You tangled your fingers in his silken locks, keeping him in place. 

Your skin tasted just as soft and sweet as Renji had hoped when watching your videos. His cock twitched as he continued pleasuring you, as you wove your hands into his hair. 

“Switch,” you commanded, grabbing his chin, and pulling his mouth away. He released your nipple with a little ‘pop’ as you directed him to your other breast. He latched on hungrily, eyes watching yours. His fingers itched to cup your body to him. 

“Mmmm,” he moaned into your skin. 

“Yes, that’s it. Just like that, baby,” you told him, playing with his hair as you rocked your hips over his. 

Renji started to kiss down your abdomen, but you grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at you. 

“Not yet though, baby, not yet,” you said huskily. “Remember, you gotta ask.” 

“May I kiss your stomach?” he asked. 

“Not yet,” you told him, standing up and moving towards the bed. “Stand. Take your shirt off. I want to see you.” 

Renji’s tattooed eyebrows shot up, but he rose from the chair and started unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes followed his fingers, watching him pop each button free, revealing his muscular, tattooed chest. His cheeks were still reddened but he held your gaze as you reclined on the bed, gently massaging your full breasts. 

“That’s right baby. Mmm, you look so good,” you told him, licking your lips. Your fingers were itching to trace over the lines of solid tribal tattoos covering his chest and abdomen. You were a helpless sucker for a guy with tats. 

“Is this acceptable, ____-sama?” he asked, feeling a little bolder knowing you were fully enjoying what you were seeing. He tried not to look at the cameras. 

“Yes,” you told him, crooking your finger, and inviting him over to the bed. “Sit here on the edge and let me touch you.” 

As Renji sat on the edge of the bed, he felt you press against his back as your hands roamed his skin. Everywhere you touched a localized blaze of want sprang up, making him burn. Your fingers were soft, drawing little circles and lines across his body. His relaxed breathing turned to a breathy pant. 

You chuckled softly, taking an earlobe in your mouth and sucking, as your skilled fingers pinched and rolled his hardened nipples. 

“Nnng!” His head rolled back to rest on your shoulder. 

“So cute,” you told him, releasing him. 

You left the bed and came to kneel in front of him, looking up as you rubbed his muscular thighs through the thin material of the suit pants. 

“You’ve been a good boy so far,” you told him, languidly working the zipper free, his girthy member popping out in your waiting hand. “Do you want me to touch this cock?” you asked, looking up at him through thick lashes. 

“Nnnng, please touch my cock, ____-sama,” he said, words punctuated by grunts as you slowly stroked him. 

His length was velvety in your hand as you rubbed up and down, feeling it grow and harden in your hand. You stroked the vein on the underside, watching his member react in your hand, the owner panting and moaning above you. You had never had a co-star this willing before. 

“Do you like that? Do you like me touching you?” you asked, adding a wrist twist to your movements. 

“Yes, ___-sama, you touch me so good,” Renji moaned. He was trying not to explode in your hand already. 

You stilled your movements. “Would you like me to put my mouth on that big, juicy cock?”

“Please, ____-sama,” he moaned, trying to push his cock around in your hand, trying to regain the movement. 

“But you didn’t phrase it as a question. Now I’ve got to punish you, baby. Lay down, now,” you told him, pushing his abdomen and chest gently. 

Renji felt his head spin as he fell among the cheap sheets. You climbed over his body, being sure to rub yourself over every inch of him sensuously, coming to straddle his chest. 

You unhooked your bra and threw it across the room. Renji watched your breasts bounce with the movement. Fingers itched to touch them again, caress the soft globes and dewy peaks. 

Moving yourself into a squat, you moved over his face. “As punishment, I’m going to just let you smell me, but not touch. Say, yes ___-sama,” you told him. 

“Yes, ___-sama,” he groaned. Your scent was intoxicating, juices so close to his face he could have slipped his tongue across the lace strip and tasted your nectar. 

You gyrated your hips over his face a few times, being sure to dip low enough to tease. 

“Very good,” you said, moving back to straddle his chest again. “Now, I’ll give you a little reward.” 

“Thank you, ____-sama,” he moaned. He had a beautiful moan that you wanted to hear more of before this shot was done. 

You slipped off the bed again and between his legs, taking his hard member in your hand and lightly stroking. He sat up to watch you, as you slipped your mouth over the helmet, lapping at his salty pre-come and teasing his slit. 

His fingers came up and threaded carefully in your thick hair, but you weren’t going to make a big deal about it. He groaned as you slipped your hot mouth down his shaft, as close to the base as you could get. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth fit in your hand as you stroked and slobbered up and down, bobbing your head in his lap. 

Your core tightened as you listened to his little pants and moans of pleasure. 

With a little ‘pop’ you pulled away from him. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat across his chest and face, his hair sticking to him. 

“Mmm, and now you get to pleasure me,” you told him, standing up. “Kneel,” you said, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of you. 

“Yes, ____-sama,” he said, getting down as fast as possible. 

“My belt and panties, remove them,” you commanded. Renji reached around and unhooked the garter belt from your waist, slowly tracing the elastic straps down to your stockings. He was careful to unsnap each one, followed by a gentle caress. 

Next, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled, bringing them down your hips, your thighs, your knees, and ankles for you to kick them aside. 

You moaned softly as his fingers came up, gripping your hips and bringing them closer to his face. It was your turn to thread your digits in his luxurious mane as his mouth came to suckle on your folds. 

Renji moaned softly against you, tasting your sweet juices. He could content himself there all day, licking you clean over and over again. 

“Oh, mmmm,” you hummed as he continued. “Yes, baby.” You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment, the sensations of Renji lapping at your folds as his fingers tenderly plied your flesh. 

“Come to the bed,” you panted, trying to switch the two of you around. Your legs were turning into jelly fast. You sat down on the edge and opened your legs for him again. 

In seconds, Renji had your legs thrown over his shoulders and his face buried in your pussy once more. He forced his tongue past the tight muscles of your slick entrance, dipping it inside of you as far as it would go. 

You completely forgot about the cameras as you surrendered to the sensations; your eyes closed, and your head canted back among the sheets as your fingers wound in his silky hair. You never played to the cameras anyway, because it ruined the illusion. 

What his tongue couldn’t reach, Renji used his fingers to stroke your folds and pump inside of you. Little moans and pants went straight to his groin. He wanted to bury himself inside you more than ever, feel your wet heat sheathed around him like a glove. He also knew that waiting would make it all the sweeter. 

He forgot about the camera focusing up close on his mouth and your vagina, losing himself in your taste and feel. 

“Mmm, that’s right baby, keep licking me till I come,” you told him, breathlessly. Brown eyes watched you, taking note of what moves brought you the most pleasure. “Mmm, please keep going,” you encouraged. 

The strands of your pleasure were weaving together behind your bellybutton, muscles starting to tense as your orgasm began. Renji felt your inner walls clamp and release his tongue and fingers as your orgasm rolled through you. Your shaking hands gripped his hair as your hips bucked. 

He watched your face contort with wanton pleasure, hardly daring to believe he was the author of it. 

“Clean me all up baby,” you whispered to him, over and over again as he slowly suckled and lapped at your folds until your breathing was regular. 

“Thank you, ____-sama,” he said against your thigh. 

“Oh, but we’re not finished yet.” You smiled wickedly as you rose to your knees. “Take your pants off.” 

Trying not to shake, Renji stood and let his pants slip to the floor in a small puddle. 

You drank in the sharp vees in his hips, the formed and muscular thighs, his flat abdomen. You didn’t know what his workout regimen was, but damn. 

“Come here and lay down,” you told him, patting the bed beside you. 

He made his way over slowly, trying not to shake because he knew the big moment was coming soon. You always called the men over and made them lay down. You didn’t do bottom. Big brown eyes searched yours as he lay back. 

“Relax,” you mouthed, curtain of hair hiding your face from the cameras. He nodded, curtly as you swung your leg over his lap. 

“Mmmm,” you whirled your hot core over his erection, letting it slide between your lips. “Do you want to fuck me baby?” you asked, movements stilling as you leaned forward. 

“I want to fuck you, please, ____-sama,” he said. He was burning, the longer he wasn’t inside you. 

“Good boy,” you said, taking hold of his cock and gently lowering yourself onto its length. 

Renji watched your eyes widen as he slipped inside you. Despite his ministrations earlier, you were still tight and snug. He groaned and made to grip your hips, but you stopped him. 

“No,” you said. You took his hands and held them above his head as you slowly rose up on his lap. You were still getting used to his length and fit. Not to say you were jaded, but you were pleasantly surprised by his member. 

As you undulated your hips, your breasts moved and bounced, Renji gluing his eyes to the sight. You were covered in a fine sheen of sweat that made you glisten in the lights. 

He felt so good being sheathed fully inside your hot, wet channel. Your fingers were intertwined with his own tightened as he bucked his hips into you. 

“Tell me, you want to grip this ass,” you panted, continuing to rock on his member. You felt so full and complete with him inside you, brushing your cervix every so often, it was a real bitch to lift yourself off for even a second. 

“May I grip your ass?” Renji asked, bucking his hips up into you again. 

“Mmmm, please,” you begged. You released his hands, fondling your breasts as he gripped your firm globes and gave you a bruising squeeze. You cried out and writhed, a mix of both pain and pleasure. 

Renji was able to force you up and down on his engorged cock at his pace as you bounced along. Your pace became frantic, the closer you got to your orgasm. 

You could feel it building behind your navel again, ready to unwind and snap at a moment’s notice. 

Below you, Renji felt the strands of his own orgasm gathering, weaving together the more you moved on him. 

“Where do you want it?” he asked, breathless. 

“On me,” you told him. “You pick, boy. Ask permission before you come.” 

You slipped forward slightly and found your sweet spot, grinding yourself on his cock until you felt the strand of pleasure snap, flooding through you as you moaned and tried to catch your breath. You gripped Renji’s cock tight with your inner walls, fluttering them around his pulsing member and trying to draw him in deeper. 

Feeling you come undone, Renji grit his teeth and held out for your orgasm. Sweat beaded on his forehead the more you pulsed and fluttered around him. His thrusts were jerky and uncoordinated. 

“Please, ____-sama, may I come?” he asked. 

You slipped off his cock and knelt expectantly beside him. “Yes, baby, you may come.” 

Renji had enough time to kneel and palm himself before a spray of pearly fluid caught your breasts and stomach. You reminded yourself not to flinch from the unexpected heat. 

He stroked his member a few more times to get the last of the liquid out before sitting back and panting. 

Inspired, you slid a finger through the sticky substance and stuck it in your mouth, sucking until the material was gone. He had a pleasant taste. 

“Cut!” the director yelled, and someone brought you a towel. 

Exhausted, Renji lay down on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment. You watched him as you toweled off his come. 

“Was it what you were expecting?” you asked, reaching out to brush some of his silky hair away from his flushed face. 

“Yes, even better, ____-sama,” he chuckled. 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that,” you chided, smiling. 

“You’ll always be my ____-sama,” Renji said, still managing to blush. 

“Would you like to make more videos with me?” you asked, thinking of your old co-star and how uninspired he seemed now. 

“May I?” He sat up in surprise. 

“Only if you say, please ____-sama,” you teased. 

“Please, ______-sama?” Renji asked, leaning over and kissing you. 

You were surprised, but gave in. During your scene, you had not kissed at all. It wasn’t that kind of video. Renji’s lips were soft and supple as you melded together. His tongue darted out, tracing your bottom lip, and exploring your mouth. 

When you came up for air, you were the one flushed and bothered. 

“Yes, I accept your offer,” you told him. “You might even teach me a thing or two.” 


	8. Hirako Shinji x Reader – But I Am A Good Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: I'm sure you have a lot of requests but could you write something for the love of my life shinji? Maybe something like shinji and female reader are already in an established relationship and it's kinda during the time when Ichigo is training with the Visoreds and shinji wants to get freaky with his girl but she's a bit hesitant because Ichigo is a child compared to them and she doesn't want to ruin his innocence with all the noises they make but that hesitance quickly goes away and shinji and reader just go at it because they're that much in love? Maybe along with it being super passionate (since they're that crazy about each other) shinji could also maybe give some body worship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it’s taken me longer to update! Had a huge paper that had to be revised over and over for approval and a marathon to train for. This one is a little shorter, more like a quickie in public and I hope it's still good. Still taking requests and still working on requests! Next is Byakuya by request.

You watched your long-term boyfriend, Shinji, as he watched over the training of the newest but most reluctant Visored. You were bored and didn’t feel like reading any more of Lisa’s or Love’s mangas. Urahara hadn’t needed you at the shop today. You supposed you could have been training too, since it had been a while since you had used kido. 

You could tell that Shinji was worried this kid, Ichigo, may not be ready in time. Hiyori wasn’t helping either. Hell, everyone was worried and not just about the kid. Whatever Aizen had up his sleeves, you knew it was serious. 

You had been in love with him long before he became a Visored, when he was a captain. You loved how he could be at once serious and silly. He didn’t call you his “first love” but his “only love.” He was a bit of a flirt, but you knew there was nothing to it because you were the one, he couldn’t keep his hands off. 

The two of you had met a long time ago in the academy and became friends. Somewhere along the way, you became more. You had kept your relationship quiet when he made captain, because you didn’t want all the talk and speculation. You were only a seated officer in the 4th division. 

With Shinji, people loved to talk. Sure, he brought a lot on himself with his antics with Hiyori, but there was just something that made him a perpetual target. 

Except now. 

When you had learned of the experiment, you knew Aizen was involved somehow, based on how Shinji had felt about his lieutenant. And when Urahara and Yoruichi escaped with them, you gave up everything and left. You could have a job anywhere, but the love of your life…well, that only happened once in a lifetime. 

So, you had come to the world of the living too, found Urahara and demanded he help you, that he help Shinji too. And he had, though not without something in return. You worked in Urahara’s shop, helping with stock and orders, and spent your nights with Shinji and the weird little family you had constructed from all the 8 shinigami who had gone through the Hollowfication process. 

Lately, it seemed that the two of you had not been alone together much with the addition of Ichigo. 

You appreciated the kid’s spirit, wanting to better himself, save his friends. You would have done the same. Hell, you had done something similar. 

But it meant your boyfriend had been more distracted of late, which meant you were more distracted too. 

_ _ _ _

Shinji watched you out of the corner of his honey-brown eye, as you watched him. He knew he had been absorbed with recruiting the kid and now trying to train him. He also knew that he had pushed you aside lately. 

You were far better than he deserved, far more patient and kind. But he could tell today, you were bored. Your body language spoke volumes, the way you tapped your finger against your cheek in time with the tapping of your foot. 

“Take over,” Shinji told Hiyori. 

“I was already!” she shouted, throwing her flip flop at his face. 

He stuck out his pierced tongue, pierced for _your_ pleasure, and drug his eye sockets down as he flew away from her. 

Despite his antics, he was grateful that she was helping. It freed up time for him to spend with you. 

Gods, he wanted to wrap himself around you, bury his nose in your sweet hair, curl his fingers into your breasts. It had been a while since he had pleasured you and you were looking as if you could use some worship right now. 

He licked his thin lips and smiled. With everyone preoccupied right now, this would be the perfect time to sneak off for some long overdue loving. 

Shinji made his way over to you, where you sat on an outcropping in the underground practice area. 

“Is my only love bored?” he asked, standing on the outcropping over you. 

“A bit,” you sniffed. “But I’m okay. Ichigo’s training is way more important right now, especially with Aizen’s plans.” 

Another reason he didn’t deserve you; you were so selfless. You put everyone ahead of yourself. 

“The kid is fine, but my doll deserves some attention,” Shinji said, pulling you to your feet and wrapping long, slender arms around you. You were warm and curvy in his tight embrace. He never grew tired of just holding you. 

“Babe,” you sighed. “Really, I’m good right now. The world needs you to work with that kid. So far, he has managed less than ten seconds, hasn’t he?”

As Shinji gazed into your wide eyes, he knew you had been very observant of the process. It was true, the kid couldn’t maintain the change for longer than ten seconds right now. But he felt stagnant, uncreative. 

“Yes, that’s true,” Shinji admitted looking over his shoulder at where Hiyori was currently beating Ichigo’s ass into the ground. “But I need some time with my favorite muse,” Shinji said, his voice low and seductive as he whispered in your ear. You shivered against him in that special way he enjoyed that started from your head down to your feet. “Maybe you can help me unblock my creativity,” he suggested, reaching around and giving your firm ass a squeeze. 

You gasped against him and Shinji took the opportunity to plunder your mouth with his skilled tongue. He massaged his tongue over yours, his piercing adding an extra sensuous layer to every movement. 

Shinji knew you loved how the cool metal felt over other parts of your body, particularly your breasts and clit. He couldn’t wait to tear your clothes off and put his mouth to work exploiting all of your sensitive areas. 

“Ugh, get a room,” Kensei shouted, interrupting your moment. 

You blushed to the roots of your hair and looked down at the ground. Despite the fact that you two had been together forever, you still weren’t used to other people being privy to your affection. 

Anytime someone pointed out the marks of his love on your neck, you blushed and mumbled. 

Shinji flipped him off and continued sloppily kissing along your jaw and down your neck. You moaned in his arms despite the fact Kensei was still watching; skin flushed with his ministrations. 

“M-maybe h-he’s right,” you stuttered as Shinji’s slender fingers pulled your collar aside to get at the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder with his lips and tongue. 

You didn’t want Ichigo to see you two. The others were somewhat used to your relationship, not to mention they were all adults. But Ichigo…well he was still a teenager. You didn’t want to corrupt his innocence. You had taken note of his reaction when fighting Lisa in her skirt; you thought his head was going to fall off with all the blood rushing there to generate his blush. 

“Maybe a little privacy,” Shinji agreed, stopping his actions and looking around. Most of the others were engaged, but he wanted you to be at ease. Despite his appetites and the length of time the two of you had been together, you were still a good girl at heart. 

He tugged you down off the outcropping and pressed you up against the coarse rock. Not what you had in mind, but his lips were fastened to yours again, rucking up your shirt to smooth his hand down your curves. 

You bit your lip to keep quiet as he pulled your earlobe in his mouth, loudly sucking as his fingers crawled under your bra and massaged your breasts. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed. “Shinji,” you moaned. 

“I love it when you moan my name,” he told you huskily, mouth right beside your ear. He nibbled your earlobe again for good measure. 

Shinji took his time rolling your perky globes around in his calloused hands. He squeezed one pert bud and then the other, watching your flushed face contort with pleasure. He knew this was one of your favorite parts of foreplay. There were certain advantages to having been together so long. 

You knew what made him hot and he knew what buttons to push. You couldn’t imagine being with anyone else now, having to explain what you liked and why. Shinji couldn’t imagine breaking in a new partner either; you had been tricky enough and he still wasn’t sure he knew everything about you. 

Wide mouth open, Shinji closed thin lips around a pert bud, sucking in your dusky areola too. You cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair, nails scraping the scalp. 

Brown eyes, half hidden beneath hooded lids watched your head tilt back as your back arched into his hands. He sucked hard enough to leave a deep purple mark, flicking his pierced tongue over the sensitive bud when he thought you needed a change of pace. 

A calloused hand, from wielding his sword so many years, pumped and rolled your free breast. The contrast in textures making you drip already. 

Your eyes were practically rolling back in your head before he even switched breasts. Even after all your time together, you _loved_ the way he could make you feel, like you were the only woman on Earth. 

Shinji moaned into your flesh as your fingers threaded in the short, silky locks. His cock twitched uncomfortably against the front of his already tight pants. 

Nimble fingers moved to frame your ribcage, his tongue licking a trail down your upper and middle abdomen, right to your bellybutton. You cried out, louder than you meant, as he planted soft kisses to your flushed skin on his way back up. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss. 

“You’re so good to me,” you told him. “Are you sure we can’t go to our room?”

“When I could have you here in the wild, love?” he grinned, hands roaming down your sides to grip your hips, pulling you flush with his body again. 

“Yeah, but the others and Ichigo…” you mumbled. Especially Ichigo…

“Forget them. I don’t think I can wait to have you now, doll,” Shinji said, pulling your shirt up. 

Automatically, you followed through with the movement and watched your shirt land in the dirt. Brown eyes drank in your unblemished skin, the way your breasts hung beneath your skewed bra, your shorts riding low on your hips. He watched your stomach flutter as he licked his lips. 

You blushed beneath his intense gaze and made to adjust your bra, but he stopped you, face serious. 

“You should never cover up,” Shinji told you quietly, wrapping his arms around you to unsnap the bra. 

It was dirty but freeing to watch it slip down your arms and join your shirt. A gentle breeze caressed your shoulders. 

Slender fingers traced patterns on your body, starting with your shoulders and arms, moving to your breasts and stomach. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Shinji tells you, lifting your chin to meet his heated gaze. 

He _never_ gets tired of looking at you, clothed or not. 

“T-thank you,” you tell him, face beet red now. Somehow, he always makes it feel like the first time, the little butterflies in your stomach, the short breaths. 

“Mmm, always.” He slides the cool metal of his piercing into your mouth, tenderly massaging each crevice as he strokes your smooth back. 

You meld into his arms and its hard to figure out where you end, and he begins. Slowly, he presses you against the side of the rock again, careful not to let your skin get scraped. 

His arms form a cage on either side of you as he rains sloppy kisses and nips to any available inch of skin. Despite his lean build, he’s powerful. You pant and moan, arching your back and sliding against his chest. 

“You have too many clothes on too,” you tell him, gripping the buttons on his shirt, trying to undo them despite his ministrations. 

“I’m not important here,” Shinji said, trying to still your hands. “I would rather see you naked.”

“But I get as much pleasure from seeing you naked too,” you tell him, managing to get a few buttons undone, exposing his pale chest. 

“If that’s really your wish,” Shinji gives in, stopping his ministrations and finishing your sloppy job of unbuttoning his shirt. He slides the cloth off his shoulders and throws it in a pile with your clothes. 

You drink in the sight of his fair, lightly muscled chest, revel in the fact that almost no one gets to see him shirtless except you. You lick your lips and pull your bottom lip in with your teeth. You’re itching to lick every available inch of skin, roll and pull his dark nipples. 

“Yes, it is my wish,” you say breathlessly, moving towards him, hands open. 

In seconds, your mouth was fastened to his neck, nibbling and sucking as he groped you. He was salty from exertion and worry, a now familiar combination these days. Breathless pants and little words of encouragement tumbled from his lips as you moved lower. 

You pulled one of his hard nipples in your warm, wet mouth and sucked. Not all guys liked the sensation, but you were happy Shinji did. One hand came to rest on your head as you flicked your tongue over the sensitive bud. 

Switching, you pulled and flicked, feeling his bulge twitch against your skin. You didn’t want to take too long teasing and riling him up, knowing the two of you didn’t have much time before someone would come looking for your boyfriend. 

“You are so good,” Shinji breathed, as you started unzipping his pants. “But-“

He pulled you to your feet, “Ladies first,” he told you, ripping the skirt from your body in one swift motion. _That_ was why he had really been a captain, you were sure. 

You pouted slightly; you had liked that skirt. Now you were left in your skimpiest pair of lacy panties. Long fingers traced the elastic edge of the waistband, teasing them gently down your thighs. You held your breath as he worked, touches just like the brush of butterfly wings.

Any thought of being embarrassed about the others catching you was put out of your mind as he claimed a breast again, sucking gently. With a whisper, your panties were around your feet and one long finger was tracing your slit, spreading the liquid gathered there. 

You breathed in softly through your mouth, focusing on the sensations rolling through you. 

Shinji watched your face, watched how his increasing pressure on your folds slackened your mouth with pleasure. The rough pad of his finger rubbed your clit in tight circles. He smirked, listening to the little pants and moans as he increased the speed. 

Standing there naked, his finger pleasuring you, you were hyper aware of the wind gently tracing your body, the bright rays of the false light, the earthy smell of the rocks around you. You breathed deeply, enjoying the erotic freedom of your surroundings. 

“Mmm, Shinji, don’t,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm building behind your belly button and threatening to move lower much too quickly. You didn’t want to come yet, afraid that you would lose your nerve to finish in public. 

“So wet, doll,” Shinji murmured, stopping and licking his finger. “All for me.” 

“Yes, baby,” you moaned, bucking your hips forward, craving his touch again, craving connection. 

“Why don’t ya turn around?” he asked, roughly grabbing your hips and steering you around towards the rock. “And let me fuck ya?”

You loved hearing him talk dirty to you. His slender hands rubbed over the apples of your hips, sliding down the creases where your thighs met as his body hovered over your back. 

“Please fuck me,” you said, hands reaching out to steady yourself against the rock,

Behind you, his cock twitched against your bottom. You were always a good girl until he got his hands on you. Shinji prided himself on the fact that he could get you to say the dirtiest things when it was just the two of you. 

Your boyfriend slid his hands over the curve of your ass, giving the slight extra flesh a firm slap.

You cried out and moaned as he quickly massaged the globe back to pleasure.

He teased your folds open from behind, delighting in the sweet, wet sounds as he manipulated your pussy. One finger inside, then two, stretching and scissoring you in preparation for his cock. Your channel was slick, accommodating. 

Shinji pumped his member a few times, ready to bury the silken flesh inside you as deep as possible. 

“Mmm, don’t fucking tease,” you moaned, backing up and trying to impale yourself on him. 

“Good things take time,” Shinji reprimanded you. Large hands gripped your hips and pulled you back, burying himself inside your slick heat with one swift motion. 

You always gasped from the intrusion, always needing a moment to adjust to his size. The two of you groaned at the same time, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. You loved the heft of his cock inside you, filling you up to the hilt. 

“So good Shinji,” you moaned. “So fucking good.” 

He pulled his hips back slowly, feeling your walls pulse around his member, trying to hold him inside. Shinji buried his fingers into the softness of your hips, gripping, as he pulled back and sheathed himself inside you again. 

You cried out, not worrying about the fact that anyone close by would hear you. Shinji’s grip tightened to bruising, but the mix of pain and pleasure felt heavenly. 

He was taking his time, drawing his length out of you at a tortuously slow pace and then gliding back in with a swifter motion. You didn’t have to turn to know that his trademark smile was in place. 

You groaned, pushing your hips backwards to try to speed up the pace, to get him to hit that sweet spot inside of you. 

“Nng, fuck, stop teasing,” you panted. Your body was alight, that spot between your legs pulsing with heat. 

“____, you like it when I take it slow,” he commented, punctuating with another forceful thrust that had you seeing stars. 

“But not right now,” you moaned. It had been too long since the two of you had been able to do this and you didn’t think you could hold out. 

“As you wish my princess,” Shinji told you, leaning over and kissing the back of your neck as he buried himself fully in your wetness again. 

“Nnn, thank you.” 

His pace bordered on frantic, his hips snapping against your firm ass and you lengthening your back to meet him. The way your bodies connected, his cock twitching inside you, both of you panting and groaning, made heat pool in the pit of your stomach. The slap of wet flesh meeting wet flesh in a harsh rhythm. 

“I’m close,” you panted. “So close.”

“Nnng, me too, doll,” Shinji groaned. 

He felt his cock twitch as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him. You felt the coil of heat unwinding rapidly and your screamed as your orgasm rolled over you. 

Seconds later, Shinji joined you with his release, hot on your pulsing walls as you gripped his member like a vise. He groaned and gave a few more half-hearted thrusts before he leaned on your back, catching his breath. 

You felt the scratches of the coarse rock on your palms where you had been holding on. Your back ached from holding this pose for an extended time. Shinji seemed to sense this as he stood up, to give you room to stretch. 

As you stretched, your back popping, you felt his warm release trickle down your leg and had to stifle a giggle. This was so raunchy. 

“Hey, lovebirds, you probably want to get dressed, the kid is coming to see what that racket was,” Kensei shouted somewhere nearby. 

“Fine!” Shinji hollered back, pulling his clothes back on. 

You flushed, deep and red; you had forgotten about keeping the noise down when you had screamed. Poor Ichigo. 

You struggled back into your dusty clothes, feeling the kid’s pressure growing nearer. 

Shinji kissed you deeply, holding your sweaty face. 

“I’ll handle the kid, meet me at our room in five minutes for round two,” he murmured in your ear. 

“Done,” you said, using shunpo to leave your hiding spot before Ichigo could get a good look at you and put two and two together. 


	9. Dom! Kuchiki Byakuya x Sub! Reader – Yes, sir!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was your first day working for Byakuya Kuchiki at his famous hotel line known world-wide for its high prices and exclusive clientele. You were to be his administrative assistant, scheduling his appointments, organizing his agenda, doing whatever he required to remain the successful businessman.  
> His second in command, Renji Abarai, threw open the door to the small waiting room, brown eyes searching around before landing on you. His mouth was pulled down in a frown. His gaze started at the top of your head and went all the way down to your stylish heels.  
> “Come on,” he said finally. You guessed he had nothing to do with you getting hired because he didn’t seem pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Would you be willing to do a Byakuya story? I feel like he gets skipped over a lot and I picture him being a more dominant personality. For the Byakuya request** maybe it could be a shy/inexperienced reader x dom Byakuya  
> Author’s Note: Absolutely! Feeling a bit AU this time for him, Boss/Employee kind of thing? Omg, I have no idea why this has taken me so long to sort through a plot for him! Or why it has taken me so long to write anything new! Anyway, gonna be a longer one, so settle in, get comfortable!  
> Still taking requests by the way 😊  
> Next: Kenpachi, then Hanataro

**Day 1**

This was your first day working for Byakuya Kuchiki at his famous hotel line known world-wide for its high prices and exclusive clientele. You were to be his administrative assistant, scheduling his appointments, organizing his agenda, doing whatever he required to remain the successful businessman. 

His second in command, Renji Abarai, threw open the door to the small waiting room, brown eyes searching around before landing on you. His mouth was pulled down in a frown. His gaze started at the top of your head and went all the way down to your stylish heels. 

“Come on,” he said finally. You guessed he had nothing to do with you getting hired because he didn’t seem pleased. 

“Okay,” you said cheerfully, picking up your things and following him into the office. 

The office was noticeably colder as you stepped through the doors. 

At a big desk, Mr. Kuchiki was seated at his desk, frowning as he listened to someone speaking on the phone pressed to his ear. He offered you a cursory glance as you sat down opposite him at the big desk, Renji seated beside you. 

Finally, he hung up and turned his full attention on you. The first thing you noticed about him was his steel gray eyes, narrowed, focused on you. Mr. Kuchiki looked at Abarai, raising one manicured eyebrow in question. 

Abarai cleared his throat before he spoke, glancing at you, “This is your new administrative assistant, ______.” 

You held your breath as your new boss raked his cold eyes over you, taking in your plainly styled hair, your conservative blouse and trim waist. You had worn this same outfit to the interview, and it had seemed fine since you got the job. His gaze might as well have been a touch, caressing and assessing each and every part of your body. This was almost worse than the interview.

Your new boss simply nodded and dismissed you, returning to another phone call. 

“Come on,” Renji growled, leading you back out to a desk area that you hadn’t noticed before. 

You spent the rest of the day sitting with Renji, taking notes on your new job particulars: how Mr. Kuchiki liked his coffee, what calls to answer, how to schedule, etc. 

This was nothing new to you; before you left your other job for this one, you had done much the same for a movie star named Rangiku Matsumoto. Probably even more so because organization was not her thing. Nothing was much her thing, except drinking and partying. Mr. Kuchiki didn’t look like the party type. 

You felt that Mr. Kuchiki would be a piece of cake compared to her. 

“I’m not sure why Mr. Kuchiki hired you,” Renji told you honestly, “I’ve been doing just fine filling in.” 

Looking at the debris scattered all over the desk, various notes and appointments, you figured Renji did need help and just didn’t want to admit it. 

“Perhaps he is going to give you a day off for all your hard work,” you smiled. 

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” 

After that, Renji was a little kinder to you, although you were used to Matsumoto’s manager, Toshiro and his extremely frosty nature. This was just a job. It didn’t matter if these people accepted you. You had a close circle of friends you hung out with regularly on the weekends. You didn’t have a boyfriend and that was okay too. You wanted to focus on your career and really put your effort into someone you could trust. 

Your past and only relationship had been a failure and you weren’t willing to try again right now. 

XX

Byakuya sat at his desk late in the evening, after everyone had long since gone home. He wasn’t really looking forward to leaving since his house was empty. He knew he should. 

Instead, he was thinking about you. 

You were conservative, unlike many of the other hires or applicants. It was refreshing. You were here for the job, he was sure. 

However, there was something about you that he couldn’t shake, something that reminded him of her. You didn’t look anything alike, so it had to be something in your manner. He wondered if you were such a good idea after all. 

**Day 3**

The first morning, you had arrived early and had to wait on Renji to arrive to let you in the office. You supposed you weren’t going to be given a key until you were deemed trustworthy. Or perhaps, it had simply been forgotten the day before.

As you sipped your black coffee, you contemplated how your first day had gone. 

It had not gone spectacularly bad, like pouring hot coffee in his lap or something. But, understandably, Byakuya Kuchiki, had kept you at arm’s length. You wondered how you were going to do your job when the man didn’t speak to you unless he absolutely had to. 

You were not frustrated with the work itself, but with the man you were working for, his standoffishness. You had not expected him to welcome you with open arms or anything, but you wanted some sort of acknowledgement that you were doing what he wanted. 

You also hated how much your gaze seemed to linger on him when he wasn’t looking. He was handsome. It was a shame he never smiled, although, you weren’t sure you could picture it. Maybe he was one of those people who looked better when they didn’t smile.

XX

Throughout the day, grey eyes had watched you move about the tasks. He kept you at arm’s length so to observe your performance. He wasn’t 100 percent sold on you, though you had come highly recommended. 

As you moved around, you were efficient and quick, quiet and willing. The more he watched, the more Byakuya realized you were perfect for him. You were quiet, didn’t ask thousands of questions, bother him with each and every inane thing, try to out-do him, knew how to do the job he had hired you for, and didn’t throw yourself at him. 

That was perhaps the most refreshing piece of all. Unlike other assistants over the past months, you had not tried to seduce him. 

You kept your hair out of the way and practical, blouses and skirts modest, makeup minimal. But you weren’t hiding anything from him; he got the real you every day. It was nice to see natural beauty and form. 

**Day 10**

You finally had your own key to get into the office. You were there before Renji, setting up coffee, laying out paperwork, filing, checking his schedule for the day, sending out needed memos. 

“Oh, ____, you’re early,” Byakuya said, stepping into his office where you were seated in the corner, finishing your morning routine. 

“Yes sir,” you nodded. “Here is your daily itinerary,” you told him, handing over the tablet he favored during the day. You rolled through the things he needed to know about for the day. 

“Thank you, _____,” Byakuya nodded, sitting at his desk. 

Finally, you smiled. At least you were finally getting something right. 

“Is there anything else you require, Mister Kuchiki?” you asked. 

“No, this is adequate.” 

You nodded again and left for your desk just outside his office. 

When Renji came in the for the day, he noticed you sitting at your desk, smiling as you answered emails. 

“What’s with you?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He looked as if he had a hard night. 

“Apparently, I am doing an adequate job,” you shared. 

Renji’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise, brown eyes widening. 

“Really? He hasn’t said that to a new hire for a long time.” 

“Oh really?” You started to ask how many new hires had been through this position, but you were both suddenly very busy. 

XX

Byakuya had been so surprised to see you early, although he knew he shouldn’t have been. Although he didn’t let it show on his face, he was pleasantly surprised that you had everything ready to go for the day. 

Adequate was the only work appropriate word he could think of right then. Apparently, judging by the gleeful look on your face he had made your day. Had you been worried you weren’t doing the job right? 

He found that somewhat adorable. 

He hadn’t even said you were doing a great job. 

You were truly the kind of woman he was looking for now. You reminded him so much of his first love, but at the same time you were somewhat different. 

You had that innocence he was looking for, without being completely in the dark. He was sure that you had some experience, but it had probably never been with someone who really valued you. 

It had been so long since someone had sparked his affection. 

When he left the office that night, all Byakuya could think about was the habit you had of pulling your bottom lip in with your teeth. How he also wanted to suck on your bottom lip. 

**Day 30**

Over the last few weeks, you had settled in and had learned that Mr. Kuchiki was not as difficult as you had first thought. While he didn’t out and out praise you, you had learned how to discern the subtleties in his facial expressions to know what pleased him or what didn’t. 

You hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Renji what he meant about the new hire comment. Every so often you rolled it around in your head, especially when Mr. Kuchiki would give you an unreadable look. 

“Hey, Renji,” you started, once the two of you were alone in the outer office during a conference call, “what did you mean about that new hire comment a while back?”

Renji looks at you, confusion writ large on his face. 

“Doing an adequate job?” you prompted. 

“Oh, yeah! Well, before you, Mr. Kuchiki had an assistant for five years. He ended up marrying her, but…”

Wow, she must have been a hell of an assistant, you thought. 

You waited through Renji’s pause; he seemed very uncomfortable. 

“And?” you finally asked. 

“Well, she died,” Renji said. 

“Oh God,” you whispered. “I didn’t…”

“Not recently, a few years ago. We’ve had our share of assistants leave very quickly. I guess you’re doing something right,” Renji said, shrugging. 

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” you chuckled. But inside, you were torn. Jeeze, your poor boss. No wonder he seemed so cold. 

“Hey, just being realistic. You’re the first one we’ve had stay for longer than a week or two.” 

You nodded, not surprised by the statement. 

“Thanks for filling me in,” you said. He had really put things in perspective for you, but now when you looked at Mr. Kuchiki, his tragedy would be all you could think about. 

XX

When you returned to his office that afternoon to finish up a task, Byakuya could see something was on your mind. You looked at him with a mix of pity and something else…

Renji must have told you the truth. 

He wanted to wipe that pitying look off your face. It didn’t suit your fine features, your wide mouth drawn down in a frown, brow creased with concern. 

Byakuya figured with time that look would eventually disappear once the shock wore off. Hopefully it would be sooner than later, so he could get back to enjoying your beautiful features deep in regular concentration over work items. 

He fantasized nightly of having you in multiple ways. As the youngest CEO in his family, Byakuya had not reached the top by being meek. He was ruthless, in the office and sometimes out. 

He enjoyed being dominant in the bedroom, bringing the best out of someone by pushing their limits, sometimes setting their limits. He imagined that you would be a lot of fun. You were a born submissive. He had looked over your other employment files; you were made to serve. 

Byakuya wanted to take you, hard and fast, spank you, hold you down, but most of all, he wanted to just hold you. It had been so long since he had such intimate contact with someone other than his hand or one of his toys. 

But it wasn’t the right time yet. Byakuya had not reached the top by being impatient either. 

**Day 42**

This was the first morning you had come in and not bore your usual frown of concern. Your features were smooth once more as you served his morning coffee and rattled off his daily agenda. 

“Thank you, _____,” he said, being sure his fingers casually brushed your own. Your hand was warm from the coffee cup, soft from your moisturizer. 

You smiled, face bright and open. His heart melted beneath the darkness of his suit and his groin tightened. 

“Thank you, sir,” you told him brightly. 

“You are doing a good job,” he said, knowing what it would do to you. Your skin positively glowed with the compliment, cheeks heating to a rosy pink. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kuchiki,” you said quietly as you left the office to attend to your other morning duties. 

He hated for you to leave his side, but he loved watching your hips sway, the fabric stretching with the movement. It pulled just right across your ass. An ass that he had recently begun dreaming about spanking into reddened submission.

At the door, you paused and turned back. Byakuya had to shift his legs beneath the desk and quickly avert his eyes to the computer screen.

“Sir, is there anything else you require for now?” You worried your full bottom lip with your teeth. 

_Yeah, your ass across my lap,_ Byakuya wanted to say, along with a thousand other inappropriate things. He settled for shaking his head, pretending to focus on the expense reports from the chains. 

“Okay, sir. I’ll be back in a little bit.” 

He couldn’t wait. Something was going to have to be done soon or he would go mad. 

**Day 55**

Your palms were sweaty as you followed Mr. Kuchiki through the lobby of his newest hotel. This was your first overnight trip with him, and while Renji had tried to prepare you for the different demands, you were still nervous. 

First of all, the hotel was huge, all modern lines, glass, and pristine, crisp surfaces. You were afraid to breathe too hard for risk of damaging something. 

You were not surprised that your boss’s projected personality was reflected in every aspect of the hotel. 

Second of all, as you followed him, staff stopped and bowed to him as he passed. But you also caught many a wandering eye from female staff, sparks of jealousy radiating through you that you tried to brush off. If Mr. Kuchiki noticed, he didn’t show it. You assumed he was probably used to it. 

A red-faced staff member ran up to him, bowing furiously, and said, “Mr. Kuchiki, your requested suite is ready, if you’ll follow me. We’ve taken pains to ensure everything is to your liking as you requested, but if there is anything we overlooked, please let us know.” 

“Thank you,” Mr. Kuchiki answered with a glance at you. You missed it, too engrossed in your surroundings. You had no idea and that was fine with him. 

The three of you boarded a glass elevator, rocketing to the top floor. Your stomach lurched with the sudden movement and you grabbed for the support railing, but Mr. Kuchiki grabbed you instead. 

Your face heated to a dark pink as you quietly thanked him, trying not to think about how his large, slender hands felt on your waist. You had hated elevators for the longest time, ever since you had been stuck in one for over an hour. 

Mr. Kuchiki was still watching your face, still holding you. Liquid heat pooled in your stomach as you looked into his steady grey eyes. You couldn’t deny that your boss was attractive, that you enjoyed working for him, that you wished there was something more between you.

You were glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts, because you had spent more than a few nights wondering what it would be like to have him bend you over his desk, pound into your wet quim from behind as you screamed his name.

The elevator dinged, communicating your arrival on the top floor and Mr. Kuchiki’s hands fell away. 

You were disappointed at the lack of contact as the two of you followed the red-faced little man down the hall to a huge set of doors. 

“Here you are Mr. Kuchiki,” the man said, bowing again but not looking at either of you for too long. “Let us know if there is something you need.”

Mr. Kuchiki just gave a simple nod as he opened the door to let both of you through. 

The penthouse could probably fit your whole apartment in it several times over. Much like the lobby, everything was pristine and a little cold. There was a small kitchenette area with a small dining area adjoining a sitting room with plush couches and a huge television. 

Beyond, you could see several rooms and an office area. 

Forgetting your boss, you started forward towards the rooms. There was a master bedroom with a bathroom further beyond, a California king-sized bed dressed in black and white dominated most of the room. 

A smaller room was attached with a queen-sized bed and smaller bathroom. You figured that was probably your room, but it was ten-times better than your current bedroom. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you. Mr. Kuchiki. Jeeze, how could you have forgotten. 

“Sorry, sir,” you apologized, rounding to see him watching you, lips quirked up in amusement. 

“Go ahead,” he said, loosening his tie and casually throwing his jacket over the back of the nearest couch. “I’ll order something for us to eat.” 

“Thanks,” you told him, turning to hide the redness of your face. You were supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. 

Though, the plane ride had made you hungry and a little tried. Plus, you had stayed up the night before worried about being alone with your boss for at least several nights, maybe more depending on how long his business took him at this hotel. 

Your room, unspoken anyway, was very much to your liking. There was a shower and tub combination, half glass, and lined in beautiful dark tiles. You ran your fingers over the silkiness, trying not to imagine being pressed against them. 

You knew first opportunity you were given you would be relaxing in there. The towels were bright white and even hurt your eyes a little bit to look at them, but they were so soft. There was even a terrycloth robe to wrap up in. 

Beyond the bedroom you could hear the low timbre of Mr. Kuchiki’s voice as he spoke to someone about dinner. You had abandoned your shoes in your bedroom, so you padded back out across the lush carpet to answer a soft knock at the door. 

A short, shy bellhop was waiting with your baggage on a brass-piped cart.

“Oh, thank you,” you told him, glancing at his nametag, which read “Hanataro.” 

“No problem,” he said, pushing the cart easily across the carpet into the penthouse suite. 

Before you could protest, Hanataro had taken all the luggage into the master bedroom and unloaded it. He seemed so shy and nervous you hated to correct him. You figured you could just retrieve your things later. 

“Thank you,” you told him again as he hurriedly left. 

“No problem!” 

Mr. Kuchiki was off the phone now but had closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch. You supposed he was a little tired too. The whole plane ride he had been on his phone, talking and having you make notes. Business never stopped you supposed. 

“Go get cleaned up,” he told you, toeing off his shoes. “Room service will be here in about 30 minutes or so but take your time. We have nothing scheduled tonight.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you told him, resisting the urge to bow yourself. You hurried into the master bedroom to grab your bags before something happened. 

Once in your room, you were happy to change out of your flight-wrinkled skirt and blouse, selecting a simple pair of yoga pants and modest tank-top. 

You decided a soak in the tub could wait, even though Mr. Kuchiki had said take your time, you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You showered quickly, but thoroughly, the water sluicing down your frame in pulsing waves. The soap even smelled amazing; cherry blossom scented. 

Just as you were debating whether you could live in the shower for the rest of your life, your stomach rumbled and reminded you that you were also starving. 

Reluctantly, you pried yourself out of the shower, wrapping up in the soft robe to dry and dress. 

When you finally emerged from the bedroom, Mr. Kuchiki was nowhere to be seen. Food was sitting on the counter, covers still steaming from the kitchens. 

His jacket was still draped over a couch, shoes neatly by the door. You knew he hadn’t left. 

Perhaps he had gotten a shower? 

You didn’t want to dig in without him though, so you waited for a few moments. When he didn’t appear, you started to worry a little. He had looked tired earlier. 

Quietly, you padded towards the door to the master bedroom. It was halfway open, so you stuck your head inside. 

“Mr. Kuchiki?” you asked. 

He wasn’t laying on the bed, that you could tell. You stepped further in, listening. The shower was running, the door to the bathroom wide open. 

Powerless to stop yourself, you let your gaze drift that way. Steam poured through the open doorway from the clear shower stall, where Mr. Kuchiki was bathing. 

A little voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you that you found him and should leave. But you couldn’t stop looking at the way the water sluiced down his hard, muscular body, the curtain of dark, wet hair falling down his back, his firm buttocks and strong legs. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as he started to turn around, but you were rooted to the spot. You had enough time to catch sight of a carved chest and wide grey eyes before you slammed the bedroom door and left. 

You knew your head looked like a tomato, it was so red. He had caught you standing there, staring. Would he fire you? 

No, that seemed really drastic. 

Though…

You went and sat down on a couch; appetite gone. 

Would he believe you when you said you were just making sure he was okay? That was how it had started out anyway. 

XX

Byakuya smirked as he continued rinsing the day from his body. He figured you would probably come looking for him, had felt your eyes watching his back. 

Now he knew you had some sort of interest in him. He was not much for one-sided relationships. 

Leisurely, he finished washing the soap from his body. All of the hotels kept his favorite scent, cherry blossoms, in stock. He would let you stew for a little bit longer. 

When he emerged, he wrapped a towel around his narrow hips and tried to dry his hair enough to keep it from dripping. Byakuya dressed simply in a grey long-sleeve shirt and dark jogging pants but left his feet bare. 

As he emerged from the bedroom, he saw you fidgeting on the couch. You kept crossing and uncrossing your legs, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in that way he loved. 

Gods you were beautiful and probably didn’t even know. Your hair was down, curling past your shoulders instead up in the functional bun, your skin slightly flushed from your own shower and catching him, top and pants hugging every delicious curve of your body once hidden at the office.

“_____,” he said softly. Despite the looseness of these pants, he would probably not be able to hide a full hard-on much longer.

“Sir!” you cried. “I didn’t mean to – I was just making sure you were – what I mean is…”

He simply raised an eyebrow and watched you squirm. 

“Did you enjoy what you saw?” he asked, taking a step towards you. 

At this, you bit your lip again and your cheeks took on that dusky pink he enjoyed so much. 

“I’m not sure my answer would be entirely professional,” you tell him, voice low and soft now, to match his. 

“I didn’t ask if it was professional,” Byakuya continued, taking another step. “I asked if you enjoyed it.” 

“Yes, sir,” you said, the blush deepening. He felt his groin tighten as he continued to move towards you. “I did.”

“I thought you might,” he said, close enough to see the sweat beading up on your forehead, your breath shallow. 

He stared down at your face, watching as realization dawned on you that he had left the door open on purpose, figuring that you would come searching for him. Your lips parted to make the perfect ‘o’ shape of shock and he tried not to groan, thinking about what he could do to your mouth. 

He hooked his long fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face upwards to look into your eyes. They were blown wide with surprise and lust. 

“Mr. Kuchi-“

“Call me ‘sir,’” he said. “Or Byakuya.” 

You breathed, “yes sir,” the air tickling his arm through the shirt, lowering your lashes so they rested beautifully on the tops of your cheeks. He figured that you had no idea how sexy you looked right now. 

“How long?” he asked, stroking the soft skin of your chin, fingers slowly moving down to stroke the long lines of your neck. He felt your pulse jump beneath his slender fingers, your breath quicken in your throat. 

“Since day three.” 

“Oh really?”

Byakuya shifted his gaze down to your breasts, the soft globes just visible from this angle in your tank top. Your breath was quick in your chest too. He fingered some of the strands of your hair, the locks silky and smooth, just as he had imagined so many times before tonight. 

“Shhh,” he whispered, fingers moving further up your hair to your scalp, as he gently massaged the delicate skin there. 

“How long for you?”

“Since day one, I’ve thought about you,” Byakuya confessed. “It had been so long since someone had caught my attention.” 

He leaned down and captured your soft lips in a slow, smoldering kiss. It took you a few seconds to respond when he licked across your lips for entrance, but when you did Byakuya was not disappointed. Your kiss was sweet and a little hesitant, but willing. 

Byakuya plundered the warm cavern of your mouth, fisting his hand in your hair to keep you close to him. Just from your mannerisms, he knew you were inexperienced and perhaps a little shy. No one had shown you what pleasures your body was capable of he imagined. 

He slowly pressed you further into the couch, adding more of his weight to the kiss, bringing his other hand up to grasp another fistful of gorgeous hair. A little moan escaped your mouth into his, making him shiver with pleasure. He planted a knee on the couch between your legs for additional leverage. 

Byakuya was starving for a feast of you, the dinner he had ordered growing cold on the countertop, forgotten. Shyly, he felt your hands press his torso, moving up his chest to thread in his still damp hair. 

That was it, you were starting to learn. It had been so long since someone had played with his hair. Large hands began to rove down your body, cupping your breasts through the thin material of your top, noting the thin lace of your bra. 

His lips left yours, moving to your jaw and down your neck as he gripped your hips. You were freely moaning and panting now, the little sounds a direct link to his rapidly hardening groin. 

“Bedroom?” he asked, wanting your first time together not to happen on the couch like some kind of random hookup. 

“Yes,” you breathed into his ear. 

Byakuya picked you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you bridal style to the master bedroom, nudging the door closed behind you with his foot. He carefully sat you on the edge of the bed with another gentle kiss. 

“Take off your shirt,” he commanded, voice low and slightly husky with desire. 

You gripped the shirt at the hem and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the side, grey eyes drinking in your smooth skin, the way the lace hugged the supple curves of your breasts. 

“Sir?” you asked, trying not to feel self-conscious and cover yourself up with crossed arms. Your last encounters had been more about getting it over with and not putting any real appreciation into your body. 

“Gorgeous,” Byakuya murmured, eyes tracking over you several more times. His gaze was like a physical touch. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, glad that the room was lit warmly to hide your blush. 

“The bra,” he said, nodding to your chest. He wanted to palm himself, anything to ease the erection now jutting sharply from his body, but not yet. 

Deft fingers unclasped the bra, tossing it to the side. You were very conscious of not barring your chest from him. You tried not to think about how he had been your boss moments before, how weird this might be later. 

Grey eyes hungrily drank the mounds of flesh in, fingers reaching out to trace the lines. Little chills raced down your spine as Byakuya touched you, fingertips tender as he outlined one breast and then the other. 

“My good girl,” he said, taking a firmer grip on one of the globes, his other hand tweaking the opposite nipple in a way that had you gasping and panting, “sir.” 

Under his experienced hand, your areola grew dusky as the nipple formed a pert, hard little bud he could pinch and roll. 

“Sir!” you cried out, liquid pooling between your legs and fire growing in your belly. “Ngh!” 

“You like that,” he said. Other lovers had posed it as a question, but he was simply observing. You did like it. You craved more of it, arching your chest into his capable hands. 

You had manners, “please…” your voice trailing off as he rolled one globe and then the other, sparking pleasure with your nipples again. 

“Please what?” he asked, a wicked smirk on those thin lips, grey eyes boring into your own now glazing with hazy lust. 

“Please sir,” you said obediently. You didn’t even know what you were asking for exactly, just more of his touch wherever he chose on your body. 

“Good girl.” Byakuya placed a very chaste kiss on your forehead, then sloppy ones down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone, and your breast. He could smell the scent of cherry blossom soap on you and it made his groin harder. That smell suited you. 

You wanted to howl when he sucked one bud into the warm, wet grip of his mouth, but all you could do was pant and moan. He suckled the bud gently at first, gazing up at you beneath thick, dark lashes, rolling his tongue around the little sensitive mound. Under his ministrations, the bud hardened into a peak that sparked pleasure each time it was brushed.

Your head canted back and you could feel a small pool of liquid at the vee of your thighs. You were still half dressed and so very wet for him already. Fisting his hair, you held him tight against your chest, feeling your quim tighten with each pass of his tongue. 

Gently, he took your hands in his own and swapped breasts, delighting in the little nonsensical tones coming from your sweet mouth. If you were this deprived with just your chest, he couldn’t imagine what would happen when he worshipped other parts of your body. 

Slowly, he eased you back into the duvet, free hand stroking your sides as his sinful mouth worked your breast into a ruddy, bruised color from his ministrations. In the morning, you would bear the marks of his love all over your body. 

“Mmmm, sir,” you breathed, as the curtain of his hair swept over you. With one hand, he held both of yours tightly above your head, straddling your hips and grinding his erection into the top of your hips to give you a little taste of what was to come. 

Byakuya couldn’t deny the shiver of pleasure when you called him ‘sir.’ He loved being in charge; it wasn’t just about establishing dominance, but about you trusting him with your life, your body. As he hovered other you, he noticed lust glazing in your eyes, but there was something more there, like genuine affection. 

“Will you do everything I say?” he asked, stopping, capturing your heated gaze with his own. 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked, still holding your hands. 

“Yes.” 

“Good, wait right here.”

He climbed off of you to retrieve a tie from his luggage. It was plain, black silk that he secured gently around your wrists to free up both of his hands. 

“You’ll be a good girl and not move them, right?” he asked, smirking as he traced a line down your abdomen with one long finger. He figured you might like being a little bit helpless when it came to what he had in mind.

Byakuya loved the contrast of the dark silk against your skin, how you were under his control, how he was fully responsible for your pleasure. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, core molten as his eyes feasted on your lengthened torso. You arched your back to give him more of a view and noticed his hand freely travel to palm himself through the casual pants. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Gripping the waistband of your yoga pants, Byakuya snatched them down your slender legs and tossed them to join your small pile of clothes. He caressed the skin, starting at your knees all the way to the peak at your thighs where your scrap of lace underwear nestled. 

Byakuya had long admired your legs in the office, fantasized about planting himself between them, licking and nipping his way to your apex. Purposefully, he began spreading your legs to grant himself a view few had ever gotten to experience. 

Your cheeks flushed and you had to divert your gaze to the wall for a few seconds. No one had ever gazed upon your body like this, with this intensity; it would require some adjustment. 

Large hands stroked the tender flesh, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake as Byakuya knelt down so that he was eye-level. He gripped your hips and pulled you forward, a cry of surprise leaving your lips. Your bottom was nearly hanging off the bed, but his hands kept a firm grip. 

Delicately, Byakuya hooked his fingers beneath the tiny waistband of the black lace and pulled your last scrap of clothing away to get a better look at your pussy. The fabric slid down easily, cast off over his shoulder. He maneuvered your legs over his broad shoulders and stared at your glistening hole. His ministrations earlier had left you practically dripping for contact. 

He traced one finger over your slick folds, enjoying your little mewling noises. It was difficult to keep your arms above your head, to not automatically reach to cover yourself. Byakuya continued tracing his finger around your folds, watching as they parted like flower petals to reveal the deep rose color of your pulsing quim. 

Keeping a grey eye on you, he licked the digit clean of your clear fluid as you moaned and panted, back arching for more contact. 

This time, Byakuya slipped two fingers into your folds, alternating between rubbing and stroking the sensitive skin, watching your eyes roll with pleasure. He flicked the hardening nub of your clit every so often to keep the sensations fresh.

Without warning, he sank the two digits into your cavity, feeling you buck around his hand as he rocked the fingers inside you. 

“Ngh! Sir, fuck!” you cried, hardly caring what filthy thing came forth if he was going to do this. You hardly ever used foul language and never during intercourse, but it was all that came to mind. 

“Oh, my girl has a filthy mouth,” Byakuya remarked as he continued to casually sink his fingers deep inside you, feeling each and every ridge of your pussy, stretching and searching. 

“Sorry, sir,” you apologized, gasping for breath. 

“No apology needed,” Byakuya said, withdrawing his fingers, sucking and lapping your fluids off. “I want to hear more,” he told you, kissing and nipping your thighs. 

“Sir!”

He planted his mouth on your cunt, sucking one fold in his generous mouth, then the other, rolling them around in his mouth as he had your nipples. You cried out, moans and indecent expressions tumbling from your lips. 

No one had ever pleasured your pussy with their mouth before. You knew you were going to crave this contact after this, that you were ruined if another man wanted you. You hoped he was the only man and tried to push all thoughts of the future out of mind for the time being.

Byakuya’s tongue flicked over your clit and you moaned his name, arms trembling from holding them above your head now, sweat glistening on your torso and face. 

Byakuya had to admit you had the best taste, so clean and refreshing. He pushed his tongue past the tight ring of muscles and felt your walls clench around him, trying to pull him deeper. He hummed against you, earning another lewd remark. 

That phrase, about a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets came to mind. He never would have guessed you could be so dirty, but he loved it. Everyone seemed to think he was Mr. Vanilla, even in the bedroom. He didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. 

“Nnng, fuck, sir! I think I’m gonna fucking come,” you panted. 

“Not yet,” Byakuya said, reluctantly pulling his mouth away and licking your taste off his lips. 

He crawled up the bedspread, straddling your hips again and kissing you thoroughly. You could taste your salty, tangy nectar in his mouth and on his lips, his hair a warm curtain around you. 

His tongue laved attention to your neck again, the valley between your breasts, leaving a cool trail in his wake. Your back arched slightly from the bedspread, wanting him to continue, but Byakuya had other ideas as he got off the bed again.

“Does my filthy girl like the taste of cock?” he asked, lowering the waistband of his jogger pants so that his hefty erection sprang free. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, licking your suddenly dry lips. He had to be the biggest you had ever seen in person before. 

“Good. Come suck this fucking cock,” Byakuya told you huskily, pushing his pants further down his hips to give you greater access and tossing his shirt to the side. 

Jeeze he was carved. You knew his suits hinted at being physically fit and had felt it in his arms when he carried you to bed, but you never dreamed he was so muscular. He could have been on the cover of any health magazine. You blushed. What the hell did he want with you?

You sat up quickly, feeling dizzy for a second, before crawling on the bedspread with your ass in the air as a tantalizing sight. Your wrists were still bound, but you found you could move forward on your forearms. 

You licked your lips once again as you contemplated the heavy organ in front of you. Byakuya reached down with a practiced hand, stroking himself for your benefit. It had been a while and you were afraid you wouldn’t be any good at it. 

Tentatively, you stuck out your tongue and lapped the salty pre-come off the spongy head before taking the whole tip in your mouth. He was warm and silky with a powerful firmness. He groaned a little, large hand reaching out to cup your head, to encourage you to continue. You swirled your tongue around the tip, dipping into his slit and lapping up more of his pre-come. 

“Mmm,” Byakuya sighed, head falling back on his shoulders. He figured by your expression that you either hadn’t had much experience or it had been a long time. But gods, the warm cavern of your mouth! 

Feeling comforted by his little noises and gestures, you took more of his shaft into your mouth, wrapping your lips securely around the flesh and creating a vacuum effect. Now his hand tangled in your hair, gently encouraging you to take him deeper. 

You angled him in your mouth to keep from gagging, nose nestled in the fine hair at the base of his girthy cock. He smelled so clean, like the same soap you had used. You started pulling away slightly, rolling your tongue around him and listening to him pant and groan for a change. 

Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, Byakuya’s strong jaw was slack and his eyes were closed, breath coming in little pants as you sucked him down again. You smiled around his stiff erection as you started bobbing your head. 

“Mmm, fuck, just like that,” he told you breathlessly. “That’s my girl, my fucking good girl.” 

You had never heard Byakuya speak like that and you found it sent jolts of pleasure straight to your pussy. He was always so polite, even to the point of being cold that you found it was a real turn on to hear him come undone with you. 

The more you sucked, the more you realized how empty your body was and how much you wanted to be filled, with his fingers, his cock. 

Byakuya was torn between wanting to finish in your mouth or to feel your dripping cunt wrapped around him. 

“Stop,” he panted and nearly groaned when your mouth pulled away. You licked your lips, also panting, hands still bound. 

“Sir?” you questioned, looking up at him, biting your lip. Had you done something wrong?

“I want to be inside you,” Byakuya husked, pushing black hair out of his sweaty face. You still blushed. 

“Yes sir,” you agreed. You wanted him inside you more than anything. 

Quickly, he reached down and untied your hands. He wanted you to be able to touch him freely during this first time joined together. One large hand stroked the side of your face softly, brushing hair back behind your ear. 

“So beautiful,” he told you, “and mine.” 

He felt your skin heat and saw the flush spreading across your sweaty face. 

Slowly, he pushed you back on the bed again as he crawled towards you. There was blazing heat in his eyes as he studied each piece of you. Your skin was burning, your core molten again. You didn’t believe you would ever cool off until he had taken you. 

Hands on either side of your head, narrow hips nestled between your splayed legs, Byakuya lined himself up with your waiting entrance. Grey eyes focused on yours as he snapped his hips into you with one swift movement. 

You gasped at the unexpected weight and girth. Despite the fact that he had stretched you with his fingers, worked you with his tongue, you still weren’t prepared and needed a moment of adjustment. Byakuya planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, lapped at your jaw and neck until he could feel you relax. 

You felt every bit as wonderful as he had imagined, your tight, wet heat holding him hostage, your walls pulsing and pulling him deeper. 

Slowly, he withdrew to just the tip and slammed into your willing heat again, testicles slapping your bottom. You cried out, arching up, legs wrapping around his waist to hold him. Byakuya moaned, head tilting back slightly, back arching as he pushed to the hilt. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, nails scraping his chest. “Mmm, fuck.” You brought your hips up to meet his for the next thrust. 

“Mhm,” Byakuya agreed, fingers tightening in the fabric of the bedspread. With you so tight and wet, he didn’t know how long he would last. You felt wonderful. 

He plunged into you again and again, small wet sounds and panting filled the room as he fucked you soundly. You cried out, sometimes just noise and sometimes his name. 

Byakuya straightened, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his slick shaft at a punishing pace, hitting your cervix with each pass. Your release was starting to weave together behind your bellybutton and soon it would snap tight. 

“Mmm fuck, keep doing it like that, _sir,_ ” you moaned, watching his face contort with pleasure. His cock twitched deep inside you, a warning that he was close. 

Byakuya let go of your hips to lean forward and grab your hands, pressing them down in the bedspread as he continued rocking forward. You were trapped between his body and the bed, but you didn’t want to be anywhere but here.

His hair tickled your face as he hovered, pinning you. 

“Yes! Yes, sir!” you screamed as your orgasm snapped tight like a bow, “fuck Byakuya!” 

“Ngh! _____,” he cried, snapping his hips sloppily into yours. His cock twitched and soon his hot, sticky release was inside you, pulled deeper by your pulsating walls. He managed to thrust another time or two and stop, panting. 

The two of you remained joined like that for a few moments, both catching your breath. His grey eyes watched you, to make sure you were okay. 

Before he lay down beside you, Byakuya kissed you softly on the lips. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, kissing a gentle trail down your neck. You shivered with warmth and pleasure, curling into his chest. 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes open now that you were so fully sated. However, your stomach gave a warning growl. 

You giggled, “sorry. I had been really hungry,” you confessed. 

Against your neck, you could feel Byakuya smile. 

“We have a microwave, you know,” he told you. “Come on.” 

He hauled you to your feet, both of you naked and clammy, as he walked you to the kitchen. Your legs were like jelly. 

Beneath the covers, the meal was still warm enough to avoid heating. He fixed you a plate of dumplings and noodles to start. Watching him, you knew you could get used to this, whatever this was. 

You chewed on your lip, contemplating. 

“You’re thinking about something,” Byakuya pointed out, turning his attention back to you before he prepared his own plate. 

“Yeah,” you said, but didn’t elaborate. You didn’t want to ruin the mood with worry. 

“Is it about our relationship?” he asked. When you didn’t answer, Byakuya figured this was the case. He pulled you into his arms once again, kissing the top of your head. “You have nothing to worry about. I love you, have loved you from the moment you started working for me.” 

You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. 

“Thank you, sir,” you told him, throwing your arms around him. “I love you too.” 


	10. Zaraki Kenpachi x Reader – A Little More “Touch Me”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had landed at least a night in the fourth division, after healing the worst of your wounds, just to observe you. You hated being by yourself, but you hated feeling useless even more. You would be surprised if you were ever dispatched from Soul Society again after today.   
> All you had now was time to think about what had gone wrong, who else had gotten hurt from your squad. Thankfully, no one had died.   
> The absolute worst was that you didn’t remember a good chunk of it. You had woken up in the fourth division with healers around you, covered in blood, and freezing cold. They had done tremendous work on you; your wounds were probably 75% closed now.  
> There was a soft knock at the screen before it opened, and the colossal form of your taicho stood in the doorway. It always amazed you that he could sometimes be so gentle, so quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenny by request!  
> I wanted to offer a softer side of Kenny. Still NSFW though. Little shorter than some of my others.  
> Next time: Hanataro x Tall Girl, then Kyoraku Shunsui

To say that your last mission had been a fuck up was an understatement. Everything that could have gone wrong, did, and then some. 

You had landed at least a night in the fourth division, after healing the worst of your wounds, just to observe you. You hated being by yourself, but you hated feeling useless even more. You would be surprised if you were ever dispatched from Soul Society again after today.

All you had now was time to think about what had gone wrong, who else had gotten hurt from your squad. Thankfully, no one had died. 

The absolute worst was that you didn’t remember a good chunk of it. You had woken up in the fourth division with healers around you, covered in blood, and freezing cold. They had done tremendous work on you; your wounds were probably 75% closed now.

There was a soft knock at the screen before it opened, and the colossal form of your taicho stood in the doorway. It always amazed you that he could sometimes be so gentle, so quiet.

Kenpachi had taken his time in arriving, giving the healers time to conduct rounds before slipping in. He didn’t care if anyone saw him visiting, he just didn’t want to be troubled. It had taken longer than he thought possible to clean up, get your blood and the ichor of hollows off. The shower had also given Zaraki time to sort through his feelings about what had happened earlier that day. 

Now, he stood, watching you in the dimly lit room. You looked so despondent. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen you look this way and he didn’t like it. Usually you were happy, practically giddy, almost manic. His heart broke. 

You had been dreading his appearance since they had scraped you up from the World of the Living. He hated coming to the fourth division you knew, but you supposed he had to, once he heard what happened. 

Lead settled into your stomach.

He didn’t say anything, green eye just watching you. His face was a stone mask in the semi-darkness. The air was thick with tension. 

He had come alone, which was a bad sign. No Yachiru to lighten the mood or at least distract. 

His hair was out of its usual style of spikes and bells, hanging loose around his broad shoulders, still a little damp where he had already washed it for the night. His ragged, white haori was gone and he was dressed very simply in his black Shihakusho and hakama. 

He was not here in his capacity as a taicho then. He was here on a personal visit. 

“Say something,” you finally croaked. You did not cry in front of your taicho; it was an unwritten rule in the 11th division. 

However, he was more than ‘taicho’ to you, though you never identified what it was exactly. Still, you were already weak enough tonight, after your royal screw up, and didn’t think you could take any more of this heavy silence. 

A long, gruff sigh as he finally slipped all the way into the room, his reiatsu heavy. He wasn’t exactly frowning, but he looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he came and sat down in front of you. 

Zaraki could feel that your spiritual pressure was low, but at least it was there. It had nearly disappeared earlier. 

“Please,” you pleaded, “say something Kenpachi.” 

“Woman,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “What the hell happened?” His voice was still gruff but quiet. Was it with disappointment in you?

Kenpachi wasn’t disappointed in you. He should have gone with you, but how could he have known the orders would change? It wasn’t until your message had made it back, that anyone realized there was a problem, and by then it had almost been too late. Almost. He wondered if you knew anything more, anything to prevent this from happening again.

You would have preferred Kenny screaming at you, putting on quite a show of displeasure, had everyone in the fourth division coming to watch. Not this quiet, private ordeal.

“I don’t know. I was afraid of…” Your voice trailing off. You had been afraid of dying, of never coming back to him. 

Whatever you had been about to voice, Kenpachi was thinking the same thing. He had been afraid, one of the few times ever, that he was going to lose you. You had been so pale, ashen, lifeless. Even now, he was somewhat hesitant to touch you, afraid you might break.

Suddenly, you wanted to throw your arms around him and bury your head in his chest, envelope yourself in his familiar scent of sweat, iron, and musk. Instead, you sat on your hands and waited. 

“Woman,” he said, so quiet that it was almost a whisper, “I’ve already been here one time today.” 

He had seen you at your worst when the healers had been working on you. You didn’t even realize that. He hated the fourth division, but he had made the exception for you. Unohana had not been certain you would pull through, but she had been straight with him, not sugarcoating anything. He had only gone back to the barracks when you were stable. 

Struck by a new realization, you reached a hand tentatively for him. He had been scared. This wasn’t just displeasure. This was fear and relief. You didn’t believe you had ever seen him quite this way. Happy, lots of times. Tired and bored, probably equally as much. 

“Kenpachi,” you said. Your hand wrapped around his nearest thick wrist. 

“I thought I lost you,” Kenpachi told you. “Don’t you ever do that again,” he growled. “I’ll kick your ass.” 

You laughed, though it hurt your ribs. This was more the Kenpachi you were used to, the growling, hard-headed, hot-headed leader of your division. This was as close as he was going to get admitting his fear. 

“Okay,” you told him, smiling. 

Kenpachi was happy to see you smiling again, more like the woman he was used to. He didn’t like grave situations. Fights and fun were his style. You were disarming him with your smile. He longed to touch you again, have you wrapped around his body, relieve your stress in one of the best ways he knew how. Ken knew he was going to have to be gentle this time.

He pulled you into his lap, settling you carefully between his long legs with more grace than you thought possible.

“But I don’t know what happened,” you admitted, leaning against his chest. “We were dispatched for one, but there were more…” 

There had been so many more, just popping up one after another. You had tried to fight them off as you waited for reinforcements. You supposed reinforcements had come not long after you had passed out, since you were here now. 

But your head hurt too much thinking about it, blurry shapes and dark shadows, screaming, hot liquid…

“It was taken care of,” Kenpachi told you, calloused fingers beginning to thread and stroke your hair. While he could be intense, there were moments when he was tender, like now. 

He didn’t want to re-live finding you so broken when you were so warm and alive in his arms tonight. The division had done a wonderful job of getting you clean. 

Acting on a hunch, you asked, “You took care of them, didn’t you?”

He had been in fourth because he had brought your unconscious body in; he had known this whole time. His hard expression had said it all.

You looked up at him, one hand stroking his rugged face, tracing over the long scar bisecting the left side of his face. You wrapped an arm behind his neck and pulled him down for a sensual kiss, trying to pour your feelings into it. 

He licked your bottom lip, seeking entrance only you could give him. You granted him permission. He plundered your mouth, his tongue laving attention to your own, his fingers tightening in your hair. 

You moaned, feeling his intensity, his desire. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him, breathlessly. One green eye narrowed for a moment in confusion. “That I made you worry. That I didn’t call for assistance sooner. That I ended up here.” 

You wanted desperately to be home with him, tangled up in the futon, his hands everywhere on you, as he pounded into you and relived your stress. 

“Woman,” he growled, the sound rumbling through you, making your core clench with desire. “I’m not allowing you to leave my sight,” he told you, bringing you back to his mouth. He kissed you quickly. “And don’t cry over it anymore. Shit happens.” 

You laughed, relieved. 

It felt so good to be wrapped up with him, but you knew he probably couldn’t stay with you all night. And you were pretty sure anything physical was off the table with your wounds and the fact that anyone could walk in. Though, judging by the hungry gaze in his eyes, Kenpachi had something in mind.

You brought your hands up to tangle in his clean hair. This gesture was hard to do when he was styled for the day. Grabbing fistfuls, you pulled him down to your mouth again, eager for his tongue again. 

A little moan escaped your mouth as he obliged you, heat spreading through your body as his palms came to cup and massage your breasts. 

“Mmm, we shouldn’t,” you muttered against his thin lips. You tried to pull away but couldn’t quite make yourself. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured against your neck, his nose brushing the thin skin there, making you shiver. 

“You, be gentle?” you teased, pulling back to look deep into his eyes. 

“Let me show you,” he growled against your neck. His tongue darted out and began licking a trail right down to your collarbone. He parted the borrowed white kosode, pleased to see your breasts unrestrained. He palmed and hefted one globe as he licked and nibbled around the dusky areola of the other. 

Your breathing was shallow, panting, as he enclosed his warm mouth over the pert bud of your nipple, awakened by the chill in the room and Kenpachi’s ministrations. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak, earning quiet moans of affirmation from you. 

Through the thin material of the kosode, you could feel his erection pressing against you, making you wet with desire and hunger to have him sheathed comfortably inside you. 

“What if someone comes in?” you asked, as he kissed the valley between your breasts, on his way to appreciating the other mound of flesh. 

“So?” he asked, nipping at the thin skin of your breast, then licking down to your nipple, earning more little sounds from you. 

If he wasn’t bothered, then you shouldn’t be either. Your relationship was not a secret around the divisions. No one would probably be surprised if they caught you, just that the two of you couldn’t wait until you were a little better healed. 

You surrendered to him fully, ready to enjoy whatever he had in mind. 

Slowly, Kenpachi lowered you back on the floor, opening the kosode as he went. You saw lust in his green eyes as your body was exposed to him. Calloused fingers traced the curves of your body and he gave a growl of approval. 

The rugged captain never got tired of looking at your body. In his quarters, you were often naked. Hell, he would have let you go around naked except he didn’t want anyone else enjoying your body. 

Under his watchful eye, you slowly opened your legs to give him a view of your glistening wet pussy. His one visible green eye was blown wide with unchecked lust. 

Slowly, you trailed your fingers down your abdomen until you found your mons, sensuously stroking the skin there, occasionally flicking a fingertip over your engorged clit. You were sore from your wounds, but you enjoyed the look on his face, watching him lick his lips. 

Kenpachi lowered himself to his stomach and crawled between your legs. Carefully, he licked, kissed, and nipped your soft inner thighs as you continued stroking your moist folds. At this angle, he could smell the sweet nectar of your arousal. 

“You’re so wet for me woman,” he husked against your thigh as it cradled his head. A large fingertip buried itself in your folds and you moaned loudly. 

“Always,” you told him. 

He continued sliding his finger up and down your slit, occasionally dragging his knuckle through for contrast. Your hand stilled as he took over, adding another finger swirling around in your fluids. Your whole body flushed with desire as you arched your back first then hips, trying to get his fingers inside. 

Kenpachi chuckled as he slipped the tip of one finger inside your warm, wet hole, watching you buck your hips up to get more length. Usually, he would have chided you about patience, but he had agreed to be gentle tonight. 

“Please,” you begged him, unable to keep the desperation out of your voice. “I need your fingers.” 

“Need huh?” Kenpachi asked, slipping the digit fully into your heat. His cock tightened from his spot on the floor and he wished it was being slipped into right now. 

“Mmm,” you sighed as your walls clenched around him, sucking the finger deeper. 

Gods you were tight. He stroked the inner flesh, feeling your legs tremble around him, your toes curling and clenching with pleasure. You cried out as he found that sweet, spongy spot, rubbing the pad of his finger over it until you thought you might pass out. 

“You like that,” Kenpachi said; it was not a question. 

“Yes, _taicho,_ ” you moan, bucking your hips against his hand. 

He chuckled darkly, adding another big finger inside of you, stretching your core wide in preparation for accommodating his girth. 

You tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Kenpachi used his free hand to press gently on your stomach, laying you back down on the floor. 

The big man watched your face contort with pleasure, little sounds and filthy phrases issuing from your mouth, the squelch of his fingers thrusting inside you. He loved seeing you come undone beneath his hand. 

The scent of your arousal was strong, and he pressed his nose into your wet folds, inhaling. His tongue flashes out, scooping up the liquid and savoring it. Full body shivers for you as his tongue dipped into your sex, swirled around your swollen clit, and laved your folds. 

Trembling hands threaded into Kenpachi’s hair, gently scraping his scalp. He moaned softly, drinking you in. Your hips bucked into his mouth as he gently nibbled at your folds. 

He glanced up, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you squirmed. Your eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure, thick lashes dark against your cheek bones. Kenpachi knew that he couldn’t torture you much longer, to risk breaking open your wounds afresh, but he did enjoy the sight of your orgasm rolling through you as a high, keening noise spilled from your mouth. 

Your orgasm had come without much warning as you had given yourself over to pleasure. Your toes curled until it was painful, your legs flexing and squeezing Zaraki’s head. You felt so good that you couldn’t even form words, just sounds. 

He continued manipulating your folds, drinking the last of your desire from you. 

As you panted, trying to catch your breath, Kenpachi began planting sloppy kisses on your mons, lower abdomen, upper abdomen, breasts, until he claimed your mouth again in a soft, sensual kiss that was a far cry from his expected rough ones. 

You were filled with such want that you thought you would burn to embers if he didn’t fill you. You needed that reassurance of his devotion to you, of his care. 

He carefully slipped his cock out of his hakama, giving himself a few pumps before pressing against you.

Gasping at his heat, the thick head of his cock pressed at your entrance, begging to fill you and make you come undone around him. A rough hand guided the painfully hard member into your slick folds and waiting channel. His comforting girth and weigh filled you in one smooth slip. 

You both moaned at the connection. Gods, you couldn’t get enough of him. 

His movements were slow, almost to the point of torture, but he loved how your walls hugged and massaged his hard cock as he impaled you over and over. He was careful not to put all of his weight on you, propping up with his elbows or palms. 

The one uncovered green eye bore down on you, his gaze heated as he watched you writhe and move beneath him. You were beautiful, mouth open and panting, nonsensical sounds slipping out with each thrust. 

The threads of your orgasm began to weave tightly behind your bellybutton. You tried to warn Zaraki, managing to pant his name as your walls clamped down around him and your back arched off the floor. 

He grunted as your release managed to pull his from him, warm seed spilling inside you. He thrust another time or two and stopped, slanting his lips over yours and plundering your mouth until you were breathless. 

You felt boneless and warm as he pulled you into his arms, covering you up with the thin blanket. Your wounds didn’t trouble you as your eyelids grew impossibly heavy. You curled into his warm chest. Nothing had to be said; you both knew how you felt as he kept you pulled into him. 

Later, as Hanataro checked in your room, he took note of the two shapes sleeping on the cot and blushed deeply, closing the door back before incurring the wrath of your _taicho._


	11. Yamada Hanataro x Tall Reader – Rose Colored Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamada Hanataro watched as you and your friends walked into the convenience store, laughing and teasing as you selected sodas and snacks for an afternoon at the pool. Out of your friends, you were the tallest, probably 6’ at least. The pretty blue romper you were wearing showed off lots of leg and a flat tummy. You looked just like one of the girls in the magazines he sold behind the counter, not that he spent a lot of time looking at them or anything…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Do you think you would be willing to write Hanataro? I know he is not a typical character for these types of stories but I have yet to find any good works featuring him and this shy boy needs some lovin’ too.  
> Maybe something sweet and kinda fluffy? I think a taller/larger partner would suit him really well!
> 
> Author’s Note: You got it 😊 I don’t think I’ve ever read something with him as the main character or with a lover. Not as steamy as my others and certainly not as long, being a little more fluffy. And I may or may not have had a bit of wine while writing…
> 
> Next time: Kyoraku Shunsui then Kurotsuchi Mayuri
> 
> Still taking requests!

Yamada Hanataro watched as you and your friends walked into the convenience store, laughing and teasing as you selected sodas and snacks for an afternoon at the pool. Out of your friends, you were the tallest, probably 6’ at least. The pretty blue romper you were wearing showed off lots of leg and a flat tummy. You looked just like one of the girls in the magazines he sold behind the counter, not that he spent a lot of time looking at them or anything…

As you moved around the store, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You floated above the shelves, he could see your shining locks anywhere. You were like a goddess. He didn’t realize he had propped himself by his elbows on the counter until you appeared in front of him. 

“Well, ain’t you cute?” you asked, grinning down at him, hand on your hip. 

Up close, Hanataro could see a fine trickle of sweat make its way between the valley of your breasts, dipping under the string connecting the two halves of your bikini top. He felt his groin harden. 

He flushed as he stammered to answer you. “O-o-oh, s-sure,” he said, ringing up your items. 

“What’s your name?” you asked, leaning over on the counter, offering him a top-down view of your breasts. 

“Hanataro,” he said. “It’s easy to remember.”

“Yes, it is, when I have such a cute face to go with it.” You reached out and took his chin in your fingers, letting you have a good look at his wide blue eyes. His skin flushed prettily beneath your fingertips. 

“T-thank you,” he said, then told you your total. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll gladly pay up if you include your phone number,” you said, handing over your debit card. 

“O-okay,” Hanataro said, running the card and printing out a receipt. He scratched his number on the back. 

You took your card, the receipt, and your items. “I’ll be calling you very soon,” you winked as you left with your friends. 

Hanataro only nodded, not trusting himself to speak, for fear it was a dream. 

He sighed, propping himself up on the counter once more as he watched you saunter out. You couldn’t be more perfect if he had imagined you, which he hoped he hadn’t.

“What are you staring at?” his coworker, Ikkaku Madarame, asked as he came from the back room rubbing his bald head in thought. 

“Nothing!” Hanataro nearly shouted, surprised by the other man. 

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes to where you and your friends were standing outside chatting for a moment. His grim countenance changed instantly to a frightening grin. 

“Oh, I see,” he nodded. “You like the leggy ones.”

Hanataro blushed deeply, unable to answer. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Ikkaku shrugged. “If she likes short guys.” 

Hanataro just continued to blush and busy himself with cleaning the already clean counter. 

It wasn’t quite an hour before Hanataro’s cellphone rang. Ikkaku stared at him until he answered it. 

“Um, hello?”

“Hey there cutie,” your silky voice came down the line. 

“Oh, ____,” Hanataro said, turning away from Ikkaku for a shred of privacy. “Hey there.” 

“You sound a little flustered and I haven’t even done anything to you yet,” you purred. 

Hanataro swallowed hard, chills rushing down his spine, picturing you speaking to him from some exotic location. 

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized.

“Don’t apologize, cutie, I love it. When do you get off?”

The blush spread all over with your question. He knew what you meant, but his member engorged anyway. 

“Seven,” he answered, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. 

“Purrrfect,” you said, rolling your ‘r’s for him. “I was wondering if you would like to go out for something to eat? Say 7:30?”

“Sure, okay, yeah.” 

You told him the address of somewhere close by and offered to pick him up, which he declined, just on the off chance you were out to cause him harm. 

“Mmmm, okay. I look forward to seeing you, hot stuff,” you chuckled.

Hanataro made some sort of inarticulate reply before hanging up. His whole head felt like a tomato and his breathing was almost panicked. 

He had a date. He, had, a date. He was going on a date. The little clerk was ready to shout it from the rooftop. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Ikkaku asked, eyes narrowed. 

“I have a date, with that girl.”

Baldy smiled widely. 

“Are you going to boink her?”

“Wha?” 

He actually hadn’t thought too much past making it to the restaurant. But now that his coworker had said something, Hanataro couldn’t stop thinking of your long legs on either side of his head, your sweet, dripping core over his mouth, breasts heaving as you presented them. 

“You know, fuck her, hook up, whatever?” 

“Oh, w-well, I don’t know.” Hanataro threw his hands over his semi-stiffy and turned away. 

“Do you want one of my pickup lines? Guaranteed to work,” Ikkaku offered. 

“N-no thanks.” 

“You know where I am if you want one,” Ikkaku shrugged as he hauled a box out to the floor to stock shelves. 

The afternoon passed in a blur of fantasies and customers. Hanataro couldn’t remember specifics. All he could think about was you. 

Finally, it was 7 and he punched out before he got stuck with someone else’s shift. Carefully, he hung his apron in the backroom then washed his face and hands, ruing the fact that he didn’t have time to change. 

Instead, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and made the several block walk to the cozy little eatery. Hanataro passed it all the time but had never had occasion to go in because it seemed to be a couple’s hangout. 

One look inside the soft glow of the window and Hanataro found you seated at a table in a short sundress, hair left down and curling around your shoulders. You were sipping a cocktail, lips wrapped tantalizingly around the rim of the glass in a way that had the young clerk licking his lips and sweating. 

Bright eyes caught sight of him and you waved him inside. 

Up close, Hanataro could smell your perfume, cherry blossoms, and see the faint tan from your time outside, lines disappearing beneath the seams of your dress. 

“Hey cutie,” you said.

“H-hey, _____,” he replied, cheeks heating. 

Gods you were beautiful. Surely this must be some elaborate prank put on by Kurosaki or someone. 

“Whatcha drinking?” you asked, waving over a waiter. 

“Oh, same as you,” he answered a little too quickly, gesturing to the pink drink in your hand. You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him as you told the waiter two more cocktails please. 

“Are you nervous honey?” you queried, reaching for his shaking hand. 

“Um….” He shivered beneath the silkiness of your fingers. 

“You don’t have to be, I won’t bite unless you ask me to,” you teased, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. The pad of your thumb rubbed tiny circles over the back of his sweaty flesh. 

“Oh, oh okay.” The drinks came and Hanataro took a huge gulp of his, hoping it would calm his nerves. He instantly regretted it, as the alcohol sat burning in his stomach. 

“So tell me about yourself,” you said. 

“I’m a clerk,” he said. 

You laughed, “I know that. How about I ask you some questions? When I ask a question, we both take a sip?”

Hanataro just nodded, not trusting himself to make an intelligent answer just yet. 

So, you went through the standard ‘get to know you’ questions, both sipping and answering. The more he drank, the more comfortable Hanataro felt with you and soon, you didn’t have to initiate the entire conversation. 

Both of you ordered food to absorb some of the drink. 

Hanataro knew that other couples in the restaurant stared at both of you with the obvious height difference and the fact that you seemed way out of his league. You never took any notice, leaning further and further across the table towards him. 

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” you told him. “So blue and pure.” 

“Thank you,” he murmured, “so are yours.” 

Yours sparkled with mirth and drink. You were close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off your body. 

How were the plates empty? He couldn’t remember eating. 

“So cutie,” your voice husky, “wanna come back to my place?”

Hanataro didn’t even consider before he blurted out, “sure.”

“Mmm, good.” You closed the small gap between you, giving him a gentle kiss. 

Despite his protests, you settled the bill. He did get a tip on the table before you pulled him out the door. 

Your slender hand linked with his as the two of you made your way down the sidewalk. With drink, lights were so much brighter. 

You pulled Hanataro against your body, angling your neck down and pressing your lips firmly against his. Your tongue slipped across the seam of his lips and he gasped, feeling your intrusion. He moaned into the kiss, your tongue swirling and stroking his. 

Hanataro could taste the strawberry of your cocktail, your hands roaming his back and kneading his flesh. With a little thrill, he realized that he could feel the full outline of your breasts, your flat stomach undulating against him. 

His once flaccid cock was now diamond hard, pressing into your thigh through his trousers. Curious hands now roamed and palmed your curves, reaching around to give your ass a squeeze. 

“Mmmm,” you moaned, kissing the line of his jaw and down his neck, licking at the salt there. “My apartment isn’t far.”

“G-good,” Hanataro stuttered, trying to get his eyes to focus. Your mouth was too talented and he was shamelessly imagining what you could do to his cock with your tongue. 

“Come on cutie,” you said, pulling away from the wall and heading down the sidewalk again. 

You hadn’t been kidding. Your apartment was in a decent sized building a block or two over. You entered the door code and pulled Hanataro into the elevator with you. 

Before the doors even shut, you had him pressed against the brass siding, licking his neck again and running your hands beneath his plain button-up. Hanataro stared at the mirrored ceiling, hardly daring to believe his luck, that a beautiful Amazon of a woman wanted to share her body with him. 

On the first date! Without a pickup line from Ikkaku! He blinked to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

You were still there, wrapping yourself around him. Little moans and sighs spilling from your mouth as you grinded against his hard member. 

“Is this okay?” you asked breathlessly, rubbing clothed breasts on him. 

Was it okay? Duh! It was better than okay!

“Mhm,” he nodded, face flushed with drink and ministrations. 

“You’re just so cute I can’t contain myself,” you confessed.

The elevator dinged, spilling both of you into an open, deserted hallway. You pulled him along to your apartment, hands shaking as you tried to make your key work. 

Hanataro took this opportunity to initiate some teasing of his own. He ran his hands over the swell of your hips and bottom, gently caressing you through the material. He was somewhat shocked to find you had foregone underwear. 

You moaned loudly and stuck your bottom out for him to grind against, as the key turned in the lock.

“Your neighbors,” Hanataro whispered. 

“Aren’t usually home. Come on.” 

Once inside the apartment, you rucked your sundress up and over your head, toeing off your sandals. Hanataro warmed because you had been completely naked beneath the dress, just for him. 

“Mmmm, such a sweet face,” you purred, stroking his chin. You licked your lips tantalizingly. 

Behind you, Hanataro noticed rows of framed pictures. As you sucked on the thin flesh of his neck, molding your body against his, Hanataro realized who you were. 

You were the model called “man eater” because of your voracious appetite for shorter men. He stiffened for a moment. 

“So, you noticed, huh?” you asked huskily, hot breath tickling the shell of his ear. 

“Mhm.” Hanataro held very still; he had heard that worked with most animal attacks. 

“You’re so cute I’m just gonna. Eat. You. Up,” you hummed, unbuttoning his shirt with each word. 

Warm hands stroked the tender flesh exposed. Gods, your hands were so inviting. Hanataro didn’t think he was going to be able to resist. 

“You’re worried about my reputation? Don’t be. The media paints me as somewhat a monster to go with my height. I’ll be the best ride of your life though,” you continue, your hand dipping into the waistband of his suddenly too tight pants, stroking and pulling at his hard cock. “And it doesn’t just have to be tonight either.” 

“Really?” Hanataro squeaked. He was slightly afraid he was going to come just from you stroking him. 

“Mhm. I’m available and I’ve been looking for someone to fill the long, lonely nights.” You sucked the vulnerable spot below his ear on his jaw as you continued to rub and stroke him. 

That smoothed his fears, that you were going to have him and then leave him, as the media had said. 

Hanataro relaxed into your experienced touch, moaning and panting. 

“That’s better,” you told him, sinking to your knees. You unzipped his trousers, pulling his turgid cock free and pushing the rest of the material down his slender hips. “So happy to see me.”

Hanataro was aware of stars, bursting into light behind his eyes as you took the purpling, bulbous head of his cock into your hot mouth. Warm eyes watched his reactions beneath long, dark lashes as you took more him into your mouth, sucking. A free hand stroked his engorged testicles and Hanataro arched his back off the wall.

You smiled around his solid member as he spewed a stream of nonsense words and delicious little sounds. You lapped the pre-come dripping from the slit, your hand pumping steady at the base, meeting your hungry mouth as you sucked. 

“Ah, hah, _____, I think I’m g-gonna come,” Hanataro panted.

“Mmmm, not yet,” you grinned, pulling your mouth off and giving the tip a little kiss. 

You stood up, dipping your tongue into his hot mouth, giving him a chance to taste himself from your lips. 

Hands reached out and gripped your naked hips, pulling you soundly against him as the ferocity of the kiss intensified. Your skin was moldable and soft in his hands as he kneaded. 

“Come on,” you hummed, breaking the kiss with a wild, wicked grin and heading for the couch. 

Hanataro shucked his clothes as fast as he could to join you. You were seated with your thighs open, strumming your damp folds and swollen clit. 

A very enticing site as he knelt between your legs and sealed his mouth over the folds, pulling one and then the other into his mouth. You closed your eyes, raking your hands through his soft, dark hair, as he tongued your slit. 

“Mmm, you really know what you’re doing,” you praised him. He hummed into your damp folds, inhaling your intoxicating scent. 

He flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub of your clit, feeling you shudder beneath him. He felt bold enough to slip a finger inside your wetness, feeling your walls envelope him, pulsing around the digit. You bucked against his face, rubbing your breasts together and pinching the hardening nipples. 

“Thank you, baby,” you purred, “but I would love that talented mouth on other parts of my body too.” 

You drew his chin up, his body automatically following as he lapped a sloppy trail up your toned stomach to the underside of your breasts. 

Hanataro sucked a hardened nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud in almost the same way you had around his cockhead. You gasped, explicatives falling softly from your mouth. 

Watching your glowing face, Hanataro swapped breasts, burying himself in the soft flesh. You were even more beautiful when flushed with pleasure. He slipped a couple of slender fingers in your tight core, delighting as it squelched with need. He pumped you slowly as he laved attention to your breasts. 

“You like that,” he said softly. 

“Mmm, but I would like your cock inside of me more.” 

Hanataro stopped and stood up as you rose, towering over him. You bent down, capturing his lips in a sensuous kiss, tasting your juices. 

You turned around and bent over the couch, thrusting your ass out and spreading your cheeks, showing off your glistening quim. 

Hanataro stroked his member a few times, positioning it at your hot entrance. He slipped inside your waiting entrance, groaning as your pussy pulled him deeper. You were so tight and wet, he knew he wouldn’t last long. He had never been in a cunt like this and it had been too long since he had made love with anyone. 

He gripped your hips, giving you a few shallow thrusts then pushing deeper. You moaned and shivered, pushing back to meet his thrusts. 

“That’s right baby,” you encouraged softly, “fuck me just like that.” You could feel the sweat from his face dripping down onto your ass. 

The speed of his thrusts increased, Hanataro snapping his hips into yours with small grunts and pants. Fingers gripped your hips almost bruisingly, as you reached between your legs to rub your clit. 

“So close,” you panted, feeling his member give a warning twitch. “So close, so close, so close,” you chanted, feeling the threads of your orgasm pull tight behind your belly button before breaking. 

Your walls seized and pulsed as Hanataro drove his dick deep inside you with haphazard thrusts.   
A few seconds later, he came with a little groan as he draped himself over your back. Your pussy continued to milk him for a little while longer. 

Finally, he pulled out of you, his seed leaking out of your satisfied hole and down your thighs. You trailed a finger through the sticky mess, sucking the combined juices off your digit. 

Hanataro licked dry lips, watching you as he regulated his breathing, flaccid cock already half hard again. 

“How about a shower?” you suggested, with a wink, “get all cleaned up?”


	12. Kyoraku Shunsui x Reader – Yo ho ho, a pirate prince for me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, so far, your voyage had gone “tits up” as the expression said. You were supposed to be heading to meet the man that would become your husband. He was reportedly a prince of some sort. Not that you were extremely excited by that fact. You only had a few letters and a promise to go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Umm, can I make request for Kyoraku Shunsui? He is my favorite character!  
> Author’s Note: You got it!  
> This one will be a bit AU, feeling pirates today and Kyoraku really rocks that eyepatch well… So serving you Pirates of the Caribbean vibes with this one.  
> Sorry it’s taken me forever to update! Always a lot going on.  
> Next: Mayuri  
> After: Grimmjow
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback! Yall keep me going!

Well, so far, your voyage had gone “tits up” as the expression said. You were supposed to be heading to meet the man that would become your husband. He was reportedly a prince of some sort. Not that you were extremely excited by that fact. You only had a few letters and a promise to go on. 

Now, you were surrounded by a crew of leering, dirty pirates, your ship had burned and most of the crew was dead or missing. You had been manhandled onto the unfamiliar ship by rough hands who didn’t give one iota what happened after they deposited you on the rough planks. 

You clutched your ripped, scorched dress closer to your shivering frame, trying to hold your chin up high. You were a proud woman, strong and able. You hadn’t come from much, but you were going to hold onto the little bit you had with all your might.

You had heard what happened to ships that got boarded by pirates. What happened to females…

“I demand to speak with your captain,” you snapped at anyone that would listen. 

Most of the men just laughed you off and passed your closer and closer to the cabin. 

“I’m right here, princess,” a smooth, deep voice chuckled as a man with an oriental pink robe draped across broad shoulders with his chest fully exposed, loose pants, and long, curling brown hair queued back came forward. His right eye was fully enclosed in an eyepatch as one grey eye raked over your body. At least a day’s worth of stubble upon his cheeks and chin. 

You hadn’t expected him. It took all your will power not to look away from him. You were not used to seeing men with their chests exposed, especially one as defined and smattered with hair. 

Despite this, you swallowed hard and forced your chin up. The closer he got, the more you realized how he towered over you. Not only towered over you, but practically dominated the entire space with his energy. 

“What did you want to speak to me about?” he prompted, humor obvious on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest and flexed. The corner of his mouth quirked up and a shiver rolled down your spine. 

What had you wanted to speak to him about? Instead, you felt something tighten in your core. 

“My conditions on this ship,” you started, chin thrust out in defiance. 

“You have no conditions on this ship, princess,” the captain said, taking your arm and pulling you along, towards the dark recesses of the cabin. 

You made to protest but thought better of it. At least you would be away from the prying eyes of the crew. 

Behind him, he trailed female first lieutenant, mouth drawn in a tight line. You felt a wayward stab of jealousy. She was beautiful in a cold sort of way, with her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun out of place with most of the messy crew, glasses glinting in the faint light of the candlelight, tall and willowy. Unlike her captain, she was fully dressed, only her neck, face, and hands visible. 

“In here Nanao,” the captain said, throwing open the nearest door. 

The three of you stumbled into the opulent captain’s quarters. It was decorated with all sorts of glass and candles, exotic sake bottles and cups spread out on every surface. His bed was surprisingly clean, dark wood with light sheets, and sheet lace curtains. 

A small table was laid out in the middle, littered with maps and instruments, three chairs settled around it. 

“Have a seat,” the captain told you, smoothly pulling out a chair for you. His lieutenant perched on the seat next to you. You wondered if she had been in the navy because she seemed so out of place. 

“Sir, someone might be looking for her,” the woman said, her tone clipped. 

“Now, now, Nanao, you worry too much. We’ll be long gone before the wreckage is found.” The captain was busy pouring three generous cups of sake. 

Nanao didn’t touch hers, but merely glared at her captain. 

“Someone will be looking for me,” you said, sniffing at your own cup. 

The captain sat down next to you, draining his own cup in one sip and quickly refilling. 

“Is that so, princess?” the captain asked, grinning, grey eye meeting yours. 

You swallowed hard, pushing your cup away, deciding that a clear head would be best for this situation. 

“Y-yes,” you stumbled, avoiding his direct gaze. “My fiancé will be looking for me. If I don’t arrive, he will send a fleet of ships to find me.” 

“Really?” the big man asked, settling back in the chair and crossing his arms over his broad, muscular chest. As if on purpose, his pectorals rose with his sigh. 

You looked at the shunned cup of sake and wondered if you had made the right choice in foregoing the drink. You had never had so much…man on display ever. Where you came from, men were dressed from head to toe all the time and never showed more than face, neck, and hands if possible. 

You glanced at his face to see dark brows knit, thinking. 

“Of course,” you continued. “He’s a prince.” 

The captain and lieutenant shared a look. 

“What’s his name, princess?”

Deciding that you did need the drink after all, you tipped the cup and let the liquid slide down your throat as quickly as possible, hoping for a spot of liquid courage. This man was going to unnerve you. 

After a moment or two, your body flushed. 

“His name?” Nanao prompted from beside you. 

Whose name?

“It’s as I thought,” the big man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “she’s bluffing.” 

“Am not,” you said angrily. 

“What’s his name then, princess?” 

The captain was somehow almost nose to nose with you. You could feel his warm breath caress your face, a hank of curling hair falling over the side of his face. Irrationally, you wanted to run your fingers through that lone section of curl. 

You wanted to slide back in your chair but found you couldn’t. Why couldn’t you tell him the supposed name of your fiancé? The one you hadn’t met? Had never seen a portrait of? 

“It’s…” But the words wouldn’t come.

The alcohol was making you burn. You had forgotten to hold the remnants of your dress and welcomed the air flow coming in through the captain’s window. The blood was practically pounding through your veins. 

“That’s what I thought. Nanao, please find her a suitable change of clothes. We need to protect her modesty,” the captain winked. 

You squeezed your thighs together beneath the table. 

“She’ll be safest in my quarters. We’ll set a course and then dine soon,” the captain said, sweeping out of the room. “Nanao, you know what needs to be done.” 

“Yes sir,” she said, nodding sharply. 

“Wait!” you cried, nearly spilling from your chair. You had no clue what you had planned on doing. 

Nanao blocked your path, adjusting her glasses, and looking down her nose at you. Somehow, she managed to make you feel like a little girl getting scolded. 

“Wait here,” she told you, before she too left. A key snicked in the lock and you were left alone in the captain’s quarters. 

Instead of crying, you sucked in a deep breath and exhaled through your nose. This would be a great opportunity to find something you could use. The sea breeze with traces of smoke helped clear your mind. 

You began poking around in the desk, looking for communications. You didn’t even know the captain’s name. There were quills and ink, but the documents were firmly locked up. You turned your attention to the table, studying the maps there. You knew enough about maps to see that there was a plan to hit ships near the area you had left. No surprise there. You were traveling the regular shipping lanes. 

Several bookcases caught your eye. Titles you recognized jumped out at you and your heart unexpectedly warmed. Romances and tales of gothic castles, fantasies. There were a few books that made you blush with their exotic depictions of couples. 

Trying not to feel completely powerless, you selected a familiar title and seated yourself in the one armchair to occupy your mind. 

Eventually, a sharp rap sounded upon the door. Despite yourself, you jumped. 

Nanao let herself into the captain’s quarters with a key. In her slender hands, she held a few articles of clothing, nothing as voluminous as what you had started the journey in. 

“Change,” she commanded you, setting the clothes on the table. “The captain will be along soon with dinner.” 

“Wait,” you said, eyeing what appeared to be little more than a robe and some undergarments. “Is there nothing more…chaste?”

The other woman fixed you with a hard look, once again adjusting her glasses. 

“Be grateful that he did not ask you to dine in the nude,” she said curtly, leaving and closing the door. 

You picked up a short oriental robe, the silk fine and slick beneath your trembling fingers. This would at least cover some of your body. She had included a thin, white camisole, and short pantaloons. 

Glancing down, you realized you were already pretty immodest in your current state, your dress torn and burned away, exposing the tops of your breasts in your corset, your stockings and garters.

You sighed, letting the remnants of fabric pool at your feet. You slipped the camisole over your corset for some decorum and slid the pantaloons up your thighs. Your garters and stockings were demolished, shoes missing. Ruefully, you slipped them into the pile as well. 

The robe slipped easily around your shoulders and you tied it tightly at the waist, trying to make sure it covered your bottom. It did, but barely. 

You gathered the fabric of your old life and tossed it through the window, watching it blow in the winds for a moment, then drift to the dark sea top. You bit your lip, willing your eyes to remain dry. 

“I would hate to see such a pretty young woman go to waste,” an amused voice quipped behind you. 

Your fingers gripped the edge of the window to keep from slipping. As you turned around, the captain was standing in the doorway, sipping sake and watching you. 

If at all possible, his robe was even more revealing. You flushed, grateful for the sea breeze to cool your face. 

“You weren’t thinking of throwing yourself out to sea, were you?”

You shook your head slowly and got down from the window, trying not to look like a child caught doing something naughty. 

One grey eye meandered approvingly over your figure in what you were sure was his choice, lingering on the hemline for seconds longer. Your body heated beneath his gaze and you forced yourself to stare down at the floor. 

He moved closer, so that you could smell the salt on his skin, the lingering scent of hair oil, and something pleasantly masculine. The broad man was so close you could see the smattering of hair on his chest despite your best efforts, earning a sharp breath from you as he invaded your space. 

The warmth of his body called to your own. 

“You clean up nice, princess,” he said, voice low and husky. A big hand reached out to release your hair from the messy coif of your earlier style, hair tumbling down around your face. A shiver of pleasure raced down your spine. How could such a small movement be so erotic? 

You offered a cut nod as reply, saying instead, “I’m not a princess.” 

“Oh?” The captain sounded genuinely surprised. 

Instead, you offered up your real name, risking a glance at his rugged face. 

A smile lingered on his lips. Up close, you couldn’t escape his high cheekbones nor miss the fact that the top of his right ear was gone followed by a scar on his temple. 

“I see,” he nodded, stroking his chin. He used your first name, rolling it around on his tongue. “You must be hungry.” 

You didn’t want to admit it, but behind your corset your stomach was rumbling. 

“Come on,” he insisted, taking your arm and linking it with his own, the picture of a gentleman. “No need to stand on ceremony.” 

He walked you to the nearby galley, where food was laid out on the table. You hadn’t realized you were starving until you caught sight of the dishes. The spread wasn’t fancy but homecooked and warm. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a proper meal. 

The captain pulled the seat out for you before seating himself across from you. He gestured for you to prepare your plate as he was doing so with his own. 

Hunger outweighed your manners and you loaded your plate down, already snacking. You wondered if you should have left the corset off when you ate more than usual. Soon, you were warm and full, not nearly as scared as you had been previously. 

“I like a woman that’s got an appetite,” he drawls, sipping on his sake. 

You heated beneath his unwavering gaze, biting your lip, and reaching for your wine again. You were a few glasses down already, growing curious about this pirate captain in front of you. 

He was unexpectedly handsome with his strong jaw and laughing grey eye. 

“How does one become a pirate?” you asked, propping up on your elbows. 

“By living by one’s own rules,” he responded, eye twinkling. “I wasn’t suited to anything else.” 

You pondered this for a moment. “I don’t even know your name.” 

“Captain Shunsui Kyoraku, at your service.” He took your empty hand and kissed the soft flesh, sending shivers up your spine. 

“Kyoraku?” you asked, feeling hollow. “Do you have a brother by the same name?”

He at least had the decency to look slightly abashed. 

You stood up quickly from the table, nearly spilling your wine, heedless of your shortened hemline. You felt betrayed, bamboozled, tricked. 

But you also felt white hot desire, because he was a thousand times better than the man you had imagined from the sultry love letters the two of you had exchanged. 

He had known what he was doing when his men boarded your ship…

You sat back down, feeling nauseated. 

This man, was your fiancé. You wished you were one of those fainting girls, but you were made of good independent stock. Instead, you just sat feeling sick. 

“When were you planning on telling me?” you asked in a small, hollow voice. 

“Soon,” he shrugged. “At least once your belly was full.” 

He got up and came around the small table, kneeling beside you. Those grey eyes were huge and sincere. You wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time. 

This pirate captain, whose letters had been your sole companions for months, was your fiancé. 

“But you killed the crew…”

“No, not me. My men. I have to let them do these things or they’ll kill me, yes?” 

You licked your lips. 

“You let them manhandle me on board.”

“Once again, I have to, or…”

“They’ll turn on you, I get it,” you sighed. 

“But, because you are to be my wife, they won’t hurt you,” Kyoraku said, brushing back a loose strand of hair that had fallen in your face. 

“You said you were a prince,” you brought up, hoping it didn’t sound like you were only interested in his status or fortune.

“And I am,” he smiled brightly. “Of the pirates and an estate. When I get bored of this, I can retire and live a normal life.” 

You looked down into his open face, trying to gauge the truth. Retire, from pirating? 

“How about you give me three days to show you the joys of life on the high seas and you make your decision?” the captain offered. 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

“Good,” he said, ruffling your hair. 

**

That night, you tossed and turned in the captain’s quarters. He had graciously given up his bed, citing duties to attend to around the ship. 

The bed wasn’t the problem, nor was the soft candlelight providing soft ambiance. The problem was the fact that the sheets smelled deliciously like his letters, a mix of aftershave, hair oil, and tobacco. 

You had made a decision with the man in the letters, why would that change upon meeting him? You had noticed the exotic post marks, assuming he just enjoyed traveling. 

He had written such beautiful things, had been nothing but nice to you so far. 

You sighed deeply, rolling over to face the small table and the bookshelves. 

“Can’t sleep?” the velvet voice hummed from the semidarkness. 

The captain was seated at the table, stroking his facial hair and mulling over the maps from earlier. 

“No,” you admitted, dropping the bedsheets from your chest. 

“Me either.” The flash of a match and he lit a pipe, the smell somewhat comforting. 

You climbed out of the spacious bed and went to sit across from him, pulling the robe a little tighter. Kyoraku looked tired in the glow of the lights. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tentatively reaching a hand across the table towards him. 

“Trying to outfox enemy ships, the usual,” he shrugged. 

Before they had taken you hostage, you had known approximately where you were along the coast. You couldn’t read maps much, but you knew landmarks well enough.

“There’s an inlet somewhere around here that’s not patrolled,” you explained. “A ship such as yours would have no trouble getting in and out, better then the big warships who would run aground. It’s hidden by rock formations.”

Kyoraku stared at you, mouth hanging open for a few seconds before he leaned across the table and gave you a powerful kiss. Your knees shook with the force. 

“Sir?” you asked, feeling a little dazed. 

“You’re brilliant,” he said softly, forehead pressed against yours. 

“Thank you?” you said, wanting more of his lips against yours. 

“Nanao!” he shouted at the semi-open door. He traced big fingers over the map, tracing coordinates and making calculations. 

“Captain?” she asked, appearing somewhat sleepy but fully dressed. 

“We’ve got coordinates now. Come along.” 

Not wanting to be left alone again, you trailed behind them, following to the deck. It was not nearly as busy as before, the sails ghostly against the midnight backdrop of stars. The night breeze ruffled your hair, the tang of salt in your nose. 

Could you do this for the rest of your life? 

You had grown up on the seashore, with the smell of the ocean a constant comfort. It was peaceful here on the waves, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. 

You noted the brief, hurried exchange with the navigator

“Thank you, princess,” the captain said, returning to you, combing the strands of loose hair behind your ear. You melted into his touch, a hot feeling growing in your belly. 

“Welcome, sir,” you said. 

“No sir, just Shunsui,” he admonished, guiding you back to his quarters. 

His big hand spanned a large section of your back, warm through the thin silk of the robe. The hot feeling in your belly spread to your limbs. You wondered what his hand would feel like cupping other parts of you. 

Shunsui guided you back to his bed, big hand, firm on the small of your back, preparing to draw the sheets up over you. 

“Wait,” you said, surprising the both of you. You grabbed one big wrist, stilling his movement of pulling the covers back up your body. 

Grey eyes widened slightly. 

“Yes?” he asked, deep voice rumbling through you. 

“Stay with me,” you gulped. “To help me sleep.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked, eyeing the space beside you dubiously. There would be no distancing, your bodies close together. 

“Yes. At least until I sleep.”

“I can help you sleep,” he purred, eyes roving over you in a slow, burning gaze. 

Your robe was hanging open, shifted from sliding over in the bed, exposing the sheer of your camisole. Calloused fingers traced patterns starting on the back of your hand, moving up your arm, sliding beneath the silk of your gown. Wherever he touched, a blaze of white-hot intensity followed, leaving you gasping for air. 

Naturally, you lay back amongst the cooling sheets as he moved his larger body to cover yours. Though he didn’t look as if he did much work, hard planes of muscle moved above you. Tentatively, you reached out to rub his arms, feeling the hair and the sturdy build. 

Shunsui leaned down, his nose nuzzling the soft flesh of your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your sweat. You moaned, fingers coming to tangle in the mass of curling brown locks. 

Confident hands moved to gently cup your mounds through the thin material, deftly pinching the nipples into hardened peaks as his mouth sucked the sensitive area just below your ear. You arched into him, mind swirling with pleasure. 

“That’s my princess,” he murmured, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue a welcome intrusion. 

Soon, he had both your robe and your camisole gone, nothing but bare flesh for him to continue to caress. 

The captain ground his hips into yours, earning a gasp of pleasure. Your core ignited, tightening your stomach into a tightly wound coil of lust. You knew some of what happened in the bedroom between couples, but you didn’t know that it could feel this amazing. 

A single grey eye watched your indulgence with an intensity which made you blush to the roots of your hair. He lowered his mouth, slipping a nipple in his mouth and pulling. Your fingers tightened in his tresses, scraping his scalp. 

Shunsui hummed around your pert bud, fingers teasing the other to a torturous peak. He drew forth a sound you didn’t know you were capable of making. You felt his hardness against your thigh; he enjoyed the sound too. 

“You’ve never been touched before, have you?” he rasped, facial hair gently brushing your skin. 

You blushed and couldn’t reply. 

He laughed, kissing each breast gently, causing even more flush. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle,” the captain told you. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. 

The captain pulled your other nipple into his dark, wet mouth, flicking over the bud with his tongue, hands caressing your sides. You shivered with desire. He turned the one grey eye on you, it crinkling in the corner with amusement. 

“Mmm, you respond so well,” he murmured, moving down towards your stomach. “I like that.” 

Shunsui kissed your abdomen, then traced little circles into your flesh with his tongue. Your back arched into his touch as he laved attention to your skin. Fingers deftly moved just below the waistband of your undergarment, drawing it down your thighs and knees, tossing it off the bed. 

Slowly, he parted your legs, laying you bare before him. You felt your entire body flush, since no one had seen this part of you. 

Lovingly, his fingers caressed the soft skin of your core, teasing the liquid from within. You moaned, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation. 

“Mmm, your fluid is exquisite,” Shunsui told you. Your eyes opened just in time to see him lowering his mouth to your core. 

“No!” you gasped, “please, not there. It’s dirty,” you cried, grabbing fistfuls of hair to stop him. 

The captain merely chuckled, grabbing for your hands. 

“It’s not,” he said, “it will feel good, I promise. Let me try and if you hate it, I’ll stop.” 

Blushing furiously, you nodded your consent. 

Carefully, Shunsui pressed his tongue to your wet slit and lapped at your fluids. Your eyes threatened to roll back with the new sensation. Gods, you didn’t know it could feel this good. His nose buried in your folds, further heightening the experience. 

The captain pushed his tongue deeper inside your folds, pushing past the tight muscles into your wet cavern. Your toes curled, calves burning from holding this position. Filthy sucking sounds filled the hazy air, mixing with your wanton moans, making Shunsui shudder between your legs. You fisted the sheets in an effort to keep yourself grounded. 

“No more,” you cried, feeling like jelly as a wave of gratification unfurled in your stomach and rocked your inner walls. Patiently, Shunsui lapped the extra liquid from your folds until you were nearly a sobbing mess beneath him. 

“Mmm, thank you,” he said, licking your fluids from his lips. “Now for the main course.” 

“Huh?” you asked, dazed. Kyoraku licked and kissed his way back up your body, dipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste the salty-sweet of your fluids. You threaded your fingers in his mane, pulling his closer to you, needing the consistency of his body pressed against you. 

Slowly, he teased your folds open again with a finger as he kissed you deeply. One long, thick finger reached inside your hot cavern with a little pinch. The finger filled and stroked you, heavy as a new intrusion. 

You moaned into the kiss as another finger was added, stretching your channel to prepare you for his cock. Somewhere behind your navel, little threads of pleasure began knitting together. His searing mouth was back on your neck, sucking hard enough you were sure there would be a bruise. 

“Mmm princess,” he murmured, voice low and velvety, “you’re wonderful.” 

“T-thank you,” you said, mind spinning, unable to focus on anything but what he was doing to you. 

“You’re perfect,” he continued. “I love your reactions. The fact that no one has pleasured you like this.” 

As if to make his point, the captain added another finger, gently thrusting into your giving walls. Your eyes widened and your legs wrapped around his waist, tangling in the silk of his robe. 

He chuckled but did not withdraw his hand. 

“Gods you’re slick,” he said, propping up and extricating the hand from between your legs. Fluid, clear and pink, coated each finger. 

Your legs fell back to the sheets as he rose and removed the robe from broad shoulders. His trousers were next, dropped down to his knees, revealing his monster cock. You had never seen one before, but you knew from conversations the approximate size ones usually were among your married friends. 

The head was already deep red and weeping clear fluid from the pinhole. One large hand stroked the massive beast, coating the skin in your fluids. Your womb tightened watching him fist himself and carelessly rub. 

“Ready, princess?” he asked. From his one wide eye, you got the idea he had asked you this question several times already. 

Before you could second-guess this decision, you nodded. 

Kyoraku pulled your body towards his, wrapping your shaking legs around his waist as he lined up with your pussy. Slowly, he began to sheathe himself inside your tight cavity, stretching you over his cock. You gasped and arched your back, surprised at how velvety the organ was inside of you. 

He groaned as he reached the hilt, the motion stopping. Around him, you walls pulsed and spasmed to accommodate him. Big hands supported your hips as you stared up at him, panting. 

“Is this okay, princess?” he asked softly, still not moving, giving you time to get used to his body. 

“Yes, gods, please don’t stop,” you cried. 

“Your wish is my command,” he smiled, tortuously sliding out of you, just to fill you once more. 

Your body flushed with heat, his member stoking the fire burning behind your navel. You gripped the sheets and moaned, closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the experience. 

Above you, the captain said filthy things as he continued to thrust into you, increasing his speed. Each new word or phrase sent a shiver of delight through you. You began to answer his playful questions about whose cock did you enjoy, who did you belong to. 

His grip on your hips tightened to a bruising point, but you didn’t care. The pain with the pleasure felt wonderful. 

The threads of pleasure that had been holding you together began to stretch to a breaking point. 

“Shunsui,” you moaned, unable to put the feeling into words. You knew you didn’t have long before you shattered. 

“Go ahead princess,” he panted, angling his hips, thrusts getting sloppy and erratic. “I’m not far behind.” 

The thread broke, arching your back and feet, crashing through you. You cried out sharply, your pussy greedily sucking and pulsing the monstrous cock inside of you, hoping to milk its owner to completion. 

A few seconds later, hot liquid pulsed inside of you as the captain came with a groan. He gave a few more weak thrusts and paused, using one hand to scoop hair away from his face. 

Gazing up at him, you knew you wanted this life on the high seas. You wanted to fill his bed every night, give him as much pleasure as he gave you. 

Gently, Kyoraku leaned down and placed a very gentle kiss on your lips. 

He pulled his slowly dying cock out and lay down beside you, pulling you into his big arms. 

“I guess this is yes, to staying?” he asked softly in your ear. 

Sleepily, you nodded, snuggling into his embrace. 


	13. Kurotsuchi Mayuri x Reader – Weird Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you had agreed to be Professor Kurotsuchi’s lab assistant this semester to get a better grade in Biology, you didn’t realize that you would be spending so much alone time with him.   
> He was brilliant, somewhat eccentric, and very cruel. And yet you wanted him.   
> Most of the student body hated him.   
> But not you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Is too steamy, do you also write Kurotsuchi Mayuri, the stereotypical mad scientist?
> 
> Author’s Note: Definitely AU. Will be a little different from my other stuff, where there is a bit of desire, this will mostly just be a bit quick, dirty, and rough. I don’t see him as the passionate type.   
> So, some trigger warnings: spanking, rough, and foul language. 
> 
> Next: Grimmjow – continuation of “I Need a Hero”   
> After: Aizen

When you had agreed to be Professor Kurotsuchi’s lab assistant this semester to get a better grade in Biology, you didn’t realize that you would be spending so much alone time with him. 

He was brilliant, somewhat eccentric, and very cruel. And yet you wanted him. 

Most of the student body hated him. 

But not you. 

Despite those factors, you tended to get wet around him. 

This rainy Friday morning you were breaking down the lab, alone. Very few students had come to the scheduled dissection, so that left you cleaning up formaldehyde-soaked animal cadavers and cleaning instruments. 

You supposed you had been lost in thought, but a sharp voice demanded to know what you were doing. 

It was a little bit your fault that the jar, containing a creepy piglet, crashed to the floor, spilling formaldehyde and flesh everywhere. Later, you would wonder if you had dropped it on purpose, subconsciously of course. 

“Shit,” you cursed, spinning around to see none other than Professor Kurotsuchi standing there, arms crossed over his slender chest, golden eyes laser-like in his pale face. 

“Clean it up,” he snapped. A blaze of desire shot through you, mixing with embarrassment and anger. 

“It’s your fault!” you shot back, bending over to pick up the worst of the pieces. 

“My fault?” he asked, hovering behind you, his voice low and dangerous. 

He was close enough that you could smell the faint scent of chemicals that always seem to cling to him, mixed with trances of aftershave. 

“Y-yes,” you continued, hands shaking from equal parts fear and desire. 

“Mmm,” he breathed, grabbing your arms. “You incompetent girl, you dropped the jar on purpose.” 

His nose was in your hair now, entirely too close to your neck, his breath hot and humid. Long fingers wrapped around the cool flesh of your arms, pulling you against his chest. 

“As if you wanted to be punished.” 

You’d never heard his voice this soft. It sent shivers up your spine. 

His lithe body was now pressed against your every curve. He stroked the skin on your arms, the deft movement making you bite your lip to keep from crying out with pleasure. 

“Punished sir?” you asked. 

“Yes, for being so careless with my things.” The fingers tightened, nails digging into your skin and leaving little crescent shapes behind. 

You were so distracted by the unexpected pain, you didn’t notice right away when he fisted your hair, pulling your neck back and forcing you to look into his golden eyes. 

His shock of blue hair was parted and combed neatly. You had the sudden urge to rake your fingers through it, mess it up, just as you had in your deepest fantasies. 

“It was an accident,” you breathed, swallowing hard. Somehow, now it seemed intentional.

“I think not. I’ll punish you so it won’t happen again,” your professor said, his usual voice back. 

You didn’t resist as he released you enough to lead you back to his private office, locking the door behind him. You really didn’t think anyone would interrupt what he had in mind. Hardly anyone had shown up for the lab they were supposed to. 

“What are you going to do to me?” you asked as he took his seat at his desk, leaving you standing in front of the fortress of polished wood and harsh angles. 

“Spank you first,” he said offhandedly. 

“Sir? I’m not a child,” you protested, although the thought of his hand stroking and slapping your bare ass had you all but panting. You had tried to make your last boyfriend, Ichigo, understand that you wanted a bit of rough play in the bedroom, but he hadn’t seemed to get it. He couldn’t bring himself to strike you, even for pleasure. 

Mayuri didn’t say anything, but those golden eyes narrowed and his stroked his pale chin thoughtfully. 

“You will bare your ass to me and lay across my lap,” he told you, voice quiet. 

Another shiver. 

As if drawn by a magnet, you stepped towards him, rolling your pants and panties down your thighs. Beads of sweat slowly crawled down the side of your face. 

What the fuck was going on with you? 

Roughly, the professor pulled you stomach-side down across his lap, knees and thighs supporting and distributing your weight. One arm banded across your back to hold you in place. Your loose hair fell down in front of your face, obscuring your view of his tidy office. 

You felt the cool fingers of his free hand gently stroking your bottom. You sucked your bottom lip in your mouth, trying to keep from making noise. 

Your face burned at being slung over his lap like a child.

“I picked you because you were the least incompetent out of those who applied,” Professor Kurotsuchi hissed, digging his nails into the sensitive skin, taking a firm hold. 

“I’m not incompetent,” you said and then cried out as his hand suddenly swatted across your bottom.

It stung, and you knew there would be a mark, but a thrill of pleasure rolled through you, making you squirm as your core began thawing. 

“Then you did it on purpose.” 

Had you? 

Perhaps you had after all since he had ignited that most secret part of your wildest fantasies. 

He swatted your bottom again, this time in a different spot. You winced, more from the sound than the feeling. Sure, you were going to be raw, but gods you were wet. You didn’t think you had ever been this wet. 

Long fingers slid in between your folds, a filthy squishing sound as he manipulated them. You let loose with a feral moan, forgetting your surroundings. 

“Mmm,” he purred in your ear, “so you did do it on purpose.” 

Two fingers slipped inside you, pumping rhythmically, making you see stars. More moans and little sounds fall from your lips. 

Suddenly, his hand is punishing your bottom again, a volley of blows above and below where he had been hitting before. You cry out, arching your back and trying not to squirm around. 

His hand falls dangerously close to your quim, so close that you utter a frustrated swear and try to maneuver so that the next strike will hit that spot of you. 

“Oh, impatient little slut, aren’t you?” he crooned, hand sliding back into your warmth. This time, three long fingers stretch you, teasing your ridges and walls. You think you might just pass out. Gods, you knew that you were ruined for other men unless they could treat you the same way. How many more jars could you break, you wondered? 

“Yes, sir,” you ground out as he continued to finger-fuck you. “I am an impatient little slut,” you moaned. 

The lacy fabric of your bra chaffed your active nipples, aching to be released and tortured as well. His hand would feel stunning across your breasts, you knew. 

“Mmm, I may not even give you my cock little slut. You’ll probably cum right now, won’t you?” he hissed. You could feel the straining of his cock against the thin fabric of his trousers, knowing that he probably couldn’t resist.

“I’m so close,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as small waves of pleasure began rolling through you. “Fuck!” 

“Cum for me then, fucking slut,” he said, fingers abusing your sensitive spot. “Let me hear you.” 

You came in a series of obscene words and wanton moans, your body milking his fingers as you came down from your high. 

It took you a few moments to realize that he was stroking your backside with those long, sensuous fingers again, gooseflesh erupting in the wake of his touch. 

When your heartrate had finally slowed, you trusted yourself to speak.

“Sir?” you asked, voice breathy, strained. 

“I was thinking. I need to explore this reaction more in depth. Come back later so that I can stimulate you again,” the scientist demanded, all but pushing you from his lap. You could still feel the hardness of his manhood as your hand brushed over it in an attempt to right yourself. 

Dazed, you asked, “huh?” You tugged your clothes back in place. 

“Are you stupid? Come back tonight. About seven. I want to see if I can reproduce this same reaction.” 

Mayuri adjusted his clothes, smoothing a hand through his blue hair. You were satisfied to see that some of the strands were out of place from his exertions.

“Uh, sure. Yes sir,” you nodded, following him out of the office. 

“And clean up that mess!” he demanded, handing you a broom and dustpan. 

You only nodded, brain still locked in the haze following great physical attention. 

At the door, he stopped and turned to you with a wicked smile. 

“Should you drop anything else, you incompetent girl, know that the consequences will be…harsher,” he said softly. 

“Yes, sir,” you answered, eying another nearby jar. 


	14. Grimmjow x Reader – Dark Love Empress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sip of the broth, drawing your robe closer against the cool breeze. You hardly bothered with clothes when you were on the ship. They just got ripped off by Grimm. It was freeing to walk around nearly in the nude, to see how hungry it made your lover.   
> Grimmjow was gone, off gathering supplies you supposed. He hadn’t said much more than ‘che’ when you had asked him. He had seemed distracted earlier, tense.

Request: If you are still taking requests would you maybe do more Grimmjow? I loved the idea for "I need a Hero" !

Author’s Note: Continuation of the scenario from “I Need a Hero.” I am so feeling the alien-creature vibe, especially his ‘Pantera’ form. Mmm, lots of saucy language in this one. 

**[Grimmjow x Reader – Dark Love Empress]**

The night air on this planet was cold now that the bright suns had disappeared. You shivered as you sat on the ship’s entry ramp, drinking some sort of hot broth Grimmjow nearly always had ready. It was your favorite drink since he had given it to you that night he had rescued you. 

Under his careful watch, you were starting to fill out, lose that desperate, hungry look that you had when you first arrived. He made you feel beautiful, wanted. You knew that you had never felt that way in your past life, you were sure. How could you have forgotten how this felt? 

Another sip of the broth, drawing your robe closer against the cool breeze. You hardly bothered with clothes when you were on the ship. They just got ripped off by Grimm. It was freeing to walk around nearly in the nude, to see how hungry it made your lover. 

Grimmjow was gone, off gathering supplies you supposed. He hadn’t said much more than ‘che’ when you had asked him. He had seemed distracted earlier, tense. 

In the months that had followed your rescue, you had yet to know exactly what made Grimm tick. When the two of you fucked, it was primal, instinct, almost animal. He brought out a side of you that you hadn’t known existed. 

Your life together so far was comfortable, he kept you warm, fed, and entertained, but you got the idea there was something more going on. Something beneath his skin, that he couldn’t tell you about yet. 

A cool breeze wrapped around you, carrying a piercing wail on it. Now you shivered for a different reason. You knew that this was an alien world, it just never occurred to you that there might be something to harm you. 

You waited for a few seconds, to listen for the sound again. It came but sounded further away. You let the tension ease from your body, settling in again with your cup of broth. 

The night sky was beautiful, with several moons and a blanket of stars. It would have been super romantic if Grimm had been around, letting him take you into his slenderly muscled arms, pinning you to his side, and whispering all sorts of filthy things in your ear. 

Lost in your fantasy, you weren’t prepared for something to crash into you. The cup of broth went flying out of your hands as you fell off the side of the ramp. Something huge and snarling had you pinned. 

Claws gripped your arms, tearing the robe, and pushing you into the cold sand. You could make out long teeth, drool dripping down on either side of your head. Matted fur that smelled wet and musky brushed against you. 

With revulsion, you tried to roll away. Pain ripped through your upper arms, the claws holding you fast. You moved your head as the dark creature snapped at it. The animal’s weight was threatening to crush you. 

With mounting horror, you realized that you were probably going to die under this ramp, alone, without Grimm even knowing what happened to you. 

And as suddenly as the attack started, the beast was ripped away. It landed a few feet away, whimpering, dark blood pouring into the sand. 

A slightly smaller beast covered your body cloaked in white with a long, feline tail. This new animal roared, big blue ears pinned against the skull. 

“Grimm?” you whispered, as the beast turned his bloody face back to you. 

Your savior glowered at you with familiar eyes, long blue hair pooling across the lower half of your body. 

If you had thought him feline before, it was confirmed now. He wore a white suit that emphasized his every muscle and armed with forearm blades, his hands now black claws. Grimm flicked his tail lazily, bringing it to shield you. The bone face appendage was gone, made into some sort of forehead protector. 

Some soft part of you longed to stroke his big, pointy ears. 

There was an awful roaring in your ears, and you watched his mouth move but you couldn’t understand the words. And after that, there was just darkness. 

**

Grimm heaved you up and threw you over his shoulder. He had changed back to his familiar form quickly. The wild beast had done a number on your arms, but that wasn’t anything Grimmjow couldn’t fix.

Mostly he had hoped that you would never find out about his other forms. He didn’t know why exactly, because he was pretty sure you wouldn’t mind, especially after the way you gazed at his ears. 

The thing under the ship was dead and scavengers would clean it up during the night. Grimm strode up the ramp, closing it behind him, and laying you down on the nearest couch. 

He had wound salve that would heal you almost overnight. 

But that wouldn’t help the fact that you had seen something you weren’t mean to, that you had seen him kill that thing, that you knew what he was capable of now. 

The salve began working instantly, closing up the long, ripping wounds on you arms. Grimm watched your face twitch as you began healing. 

With unexpected tenderness, the panther touched your face, brushing hair out of the way so that he could gaze down at you. The terror was gone now and you looked as sweet as when he first rescued you. 

Gods, you had only grown more beautiful in the months you had been living with him. You had filled out and lost that drugged look that had plagued your beauty from being captured and transported.

You had trusted him so far, probably way beyond originally intended. Perhaps this wouldn’t be a problem. 

In the months the two of you had traveled together, Grimm had learned a lot about you. It came with being together constantly, of course, but also with trust. You trusted him, opened up to him. 

Grimm knew all about his home world, the one where he had rescued you from, knew his origins from beast to man, the hunger that had driven him. There was not a step of his journey that he didn’t remember. But you, you would tell him that he made you feel like you were home. 

It was mushy and he would say “che,” but deep down he felt a flush of gratitude that you felt safe with him. He couldn’t imagine not knowing where he was from, not being able to remember anything from your life before the cantina. 

But you seemed fine with not knowing or remembering. You would tell the panther that your life before wasn’t worth remembering, that it wasn’t good or you would be able to recall it better. You would tell him that your life was great now. 

Fiercely protective of you, Grimmjow confirmed that the ramp was closed and locked before returning to your side. You were sweating slightly, the liquid glistening on your skin in the low lighting. He wet a clean cloth and sponged the blood, drool, and viscera away. 

As you healed, you made the sweetest noises, all of them going straight to his groin. Your little whimpers and moans were almost the same as the ones you made when he had his head between your legs. 

He was impatient for you to wake up, because the sounds you were making were driving him wild. That animal part of him, the Pantera, was hard to turn off, and you weren’t making things easier. 

You moaned his name softly, head lolling amongst the cushions. 

A wicked idea occurred to Grimmjow, a delicious way to wake you up and take your mind off things. 

Reaching beneath the skimpy robe you had donned, Grimm was pleased to find you had forgone panties as he stroked your warm, damp lips. He slid his knuckle up and down in the folds, relishing the feeling of your skin on his hand, your body responding to his ministrations. 

You moaned louder, hips bucking up to ride his palm, craving more contact. Grimm felt himself harden almost to the point of pain, watching your legs quake as he continued to stroke you. When he slipped a finger past the bundle of resistance, a broken cry tumbled from your lips. 

“Grimm,” you hummed, voice thick. “Fuck.” 

Deciding that he’s had enough of playing with his fingers, Grimm slides your legs open, baring you wide for his eyes. You were glistening, dripping. He inhaled your sweet, familiar scent before pressing his nose into your folds. 

“Mmmm fuck,” you moaned, back arching again as he licked a stripe through your wetness. 

“Che, I intend to,” your lover growled into your aching pussy. 

Your toes curled painfully as he licked you again, teasing your opening with his skilled tongue. Your body flushed, every nerve on fire. Soft moans and sighs spilled from your mouth.

Grimm pushed his tongue inside you, lapping at your walls, and your eyes threatened to roll back inside your skull. The familiar bone appendage on the side of his face was cool and smooth against your inner thigh, providing a tantalizing contrast to the heat currently blazing through your body.

As if he weren’t killing you enough, Grimm added a finger, reaching deep to your favorite spot and stroking. You didn’t know if you could die from pleasure, but you figured you were pretty close. He knew just where to manipulate to make your body sing for him, an advantage of having been together for a little while. 

“Grimm,” you all but screamed, fingers tangling in his bright, blue locks, holding his head in place in order to get the most pleasure. “Fuck!” Your arms burned where the beast had scratched you, but you didn’t care. 

His long, skillful fingers on the hand holding one of your thighs tightened to a bruising grip, the dull pain mixing with the intense pleasure. Your blue-haired man loved it when you used filthy language, when you couldn’t get more than one word. 

“Che,” he hummed against your core. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he tells you as he laps at your folds again. “I can never get enough.” 

Bright blue eyes watch you intently, his handsome carved face practically sinful as he looked up at you from between the frame of your thighs. He watched your stomach flutter and contract was he continued to satisfy you. 

Your stomach flopped pleasantly with his compliments and you felt an orgasm beginning to unravel behind your navel. 

“I’m so fucking close,” you moaned. “So close.” 

Grimm smiled against your wetness, planting a gentle kiss there. You bucked your hips, wanting more contact. One finger buried to the hilt inside of you was not enough. 

“Che, so impatient,” Grimm commented, lazily sliding the one long finger in and out of you. Your walls fluttered around the digit, trying to draw him deeper. “I love seeing you so needy,” he growled against your thigh. 

“Mmm, I need you to make me come,” you moaned, head rolling amongst the cushions. “Please, I need to come so bad. So fucking bad.” 

“Not yet,” Grimm told you, completely withdrawing his finger and sitting up. “I want you to ride this cock.” 

“Of course,” you panted, trying to right yourself from the couch cushions. 

Grimmjow smiled wickedly as he freed his member, watching your struggle. A strong hand reached out to help you stand up. You felt like jelly, limbs rubbery and out of control. Your head was spinning with pleasure and a little pain. 

The incident on the ramp seemed like a nightmare, his other form simply a figment of your imagination. You knew that Grimm was trying to avoid talking about it, trying to distract you. Gods was it working too. 

But you also knew that eventually you would talk about it. You still wanted to stroke those ears, run your fingers through that long hair. 

Grimmjow settled himself among the cushions, his thick cock fully erect and glistening with drops of silvery pre-come, a satisfied smirk on his lips. 

You swelled with pride that you had caused that erection as you drew closer to him. Your smooth hands pumped his member as you prepared to straddle him. 

Grimm allowed his head to rest on the back of the couch, a purr of satisfaction in his chest, as you sank onto his full member. He fit so perfectly inside of you, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate him. 

Both of you moaned at the contact. His big hands gripped your hips tightly as you rolled your pelvis for him, taking him deeper inside you. 

“Mmm, fuck, baby, just like that,” he moaned. 

A chill of delight rolled up your spine, as your hips rose and dropped again. His cock was smooth and heavy inside your tight channel. You undulated your chest against his, the rough fabric of his shirt brushing against your pert nipples. 

His big hands came up to cup your breasts, rolling the globes in his palms and pinching your buds. Your head canted back, hair tumbling past your shoulders and back arching into his touch. 

He gently pulled your chest to his mouth, taking one of the sensitive nipples into the warm, sucking cavern of his mouth, rolling his tongue around the crinkled flesh and tracing your areola with the broad flat of the appendage.

“Ah! Fuck,” you sighed, undulating your hips in time with his thrusts. 

“Mmmm,” he moaned against your other breast, sucking wetly, the little sounds blending with the symphony of your wet flesh slapping together. 

You felt your orgasm unraveling behind your navel again and knew that you were not going to last much longer at this punishing pace. 

“I’m so close,” you moaned, settling into the spot between his neck and shoulder, “fuck yes, please, keep going.” 

Grimm responded by biting your neck, just beneath your ear, bone appendage pressing into your flesh, marking you. 

You came hard, orgasm striking through you, clenching your walls hard around his member. You threw your head back, crying out his name as your body jerked against his chest. 

A few seconds later, Grimm’s hot seed released inside you as he growled against your skin. He thrusted a few more times, slower than before, gently lapping the blood from your neck. You always felt so good when he finished inside you, as if the two of you had always meant to be together. 

Exhausted, you just lay against his chest, trying to get your breath back. Your arms burned where sweat had mixed with the salve. 

“Can I see your big, blue ears?” you asked, tucked up against your lover as a purr rumbled his chest. 

Grimm looked down at you, blue eyes wide with shock. 

“I want to pet them,” you said sleepily. “And your tail.” 

You smiled, feeling Grimm laugh deep in his chest. 

“In a little while,” he answered, stroking your hair as you drifted to sleep. 


	15. [Sosuke Aizen x Reader – If I Was Your Vampire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You see, I have this party that I need a date for.”   
> You nodded.   
> “And I need a date.”  
> You continued nodding.   
> “How would I go about asking someone?”  
> Not quite what you were expecting. You hoped the surprise wasn’t showing on your face.   
> “I would just ask,” you blurted, trying not to feel hurt. You were essentially an employee after all. “The worst that could happen is you get told no.”

Lover to Lover

Request: Can you do any any Aizen plz?

Author’s Note: I was going to do one super dark, er kidnappy kind of thing, but I really love the sweet but kinky professor vibe with a dark secret, so here we go. I had hoped to have it for Halloween, but was so busy! Also, Gatsby references, because, I just totally picture Aizen.

I’m currently under indefinite quarantine and have been sick for about two weeks, so I totally apologize if this is weird. I tend to write what I would want to read, though it may not be completely realistic. Gotta have some sort of escape right? So, I give a super-long update, co-written with my partner.

Up next: Another Aizen.

After that: More jealous Grimmjow

And beyond that: my first male!reader x Urahara

**[Sosuke Aizen x Reader – If I Was Your Vampire]**

“Would you mind staying a moment?” Professor Aizen asked you, as you made to leave his class. You had been his TA (teaching assistant) for a couple of semesters now. He was incredibly kind and gentle to all of his students. You had developed somewhat of a crush on him, but so had most of the female staff. 

“Of course, sir,” you answered, dipping your head to acknowledge his request. You set your satchel and books on the nearest desk. It was late, dark outside. You didn’t have any other classes for the night and simply planned on staying in with Netflix. Professor Aizen only taught night classes; someone had to. 

“Is something wrong?” you asked, biting your lip. “Did I do something?”

“No, of course not,” Professor Aizen answered, giving you one of those signature smiles that made your heart melt. 

“Oh. What did you wish to see me for?” you asked, looking up into those kind brown eyes. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, looking bashful. There was just a hint of blush beneath his dark glasses. 

“Sure,” you answered, hoping to keep the excited squeak out of your voice. 

“You see, I have this party that I need a date for.” 

You nodded. 

“And I need a date.”

You continued nodding. 

“How would I go about asking someone?”

Not quite what you were expecting. You hoped the surprise wasn’t showing on your face. 

“I would just ask,” you blurted, trying not to feel hurt. You were essentially an employee after all. “The worst that could happen is you get told no.” 

Professor Aizen smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, sir,” you nodded, just hoping to get away before you started crying. 

You turned, retrieving your things and hurrying off to your apartment for the night. A few hot tears escaped down your cheeks on your brisk, cold walk home and that was as much indulgence as you were going to allow yourself. 

You had a ton of work to focus on and cleaning and whatever. After a quick shower, you blasted music, baked cookies, and totally binged on a new romance series. By the end of the night, you were feeling 95% better. There was still that little 5% of hurt that wanted to rise up, but you squashed it down. 

**

Aizen knew that you were upset. As you walked away, he watched the slouch of your shoulders, heard the stifling of tears. It was the only way to really know for sure though. 

When he had requested you as his TA, he did have ulterior motives. Out of all the possible applicants, he had seen your picture and knew that you were the one he was searching for this whole time. 

Aizen had smelled your blood for several years all over the university. He would catch the faintest traces of it on the wind. It called to him, like a siren. 

During lectures, it was sometimes difficult to keep his focus, to not sink his teeth into you right then. 

And you had no clue the effect that you had on him, even now when your blood was boiling with disappointment. 

Blending into the shadows, Aizen followed you as he had done many times before. On your walk, he could hear your sniffling and was somewhat amused by it. 

It was cruel, but now he could see that you were dedicated. 

In your apartment, it was fun watching you dance around, trying to wash him out of your hair. You couldn’t wash him out of your DNA now; you were his and soon you would know it too. 

At home, Aizen sat in front of his fireplace, deep in thought. 

“So, is she the one?” Gin, one of the famous trio asked. He was always amused by something. 

“Yes,” Aizen said, taking a deep sip of the vital water. It didn’t taste anything like he knew your blood would. 

“But of course, you knew that,” Gin said. 

The other part of the trio, Tosen, was seated nearby simply listening to the exchange. 

Aizen was the head of the trio and the first to find his mate. They were infamous in the vampire world, for being ruthless when it came to vampire law. 

“So you think our world will accept her?” Tosen finally asked. He turned sightless eyes in their direction. He had been blinded when he was still human, but his vampire senses more than made up for his lack of sight. 

“It should not even be a question,” Aizen said. “This is my mating party. There will be _no_ arguments.” His tone implied that there would be a loss of life if anyone disagreed with his choice. 

“If you say so,” Gin replied, laughing. “But you know that _she_ will be in attendance.”

 _She_ referred to a woman named Hinamori, who was obsessed with Aizen. All he had ever done was be kind to her. At any gathering, she dropped hints about being his mate.

Aizen hoped she wouldn’t make a scene when he presented you to the vampire world. 

**

During his lectures, the professor was his normal, gracious self. No hint of the slightly anxious man from the night before. That dangerous, crying feeling welled up in you again and it took everything to press it down and help grade term papers. 

The papers were abysmal enough that it was easy to channel your anger into the terrible research and half-assed offerings the students had turned in. 

It took you longer than you cared to admit realizing that class was over and Aizen was watching you. 

“Are the papers that terrible?” he asked, noting your red marks crisscrossing the white paper. He was smirking over his black-frame glasses, brown eyes alight with humor.

You flushed with color and avoided his gaze, mumbling something to effect of “bloody awful talentless twits.” 

“You’re much harsher than I would be,” he teased. 

“And yet they still love you,” you shot back, marking through yet another incorrect use of “there.” 

“Ouch, something on your mind?”

“No, not at all,” you answered swiftly, gathering up the bleeding papers and making to leave. 

“Would you mind waiting a moment?” he asked. 

Something in his tone gave you pause. 

“Sir?”

“Remember when I was asking for advice last night?” he said, the faintest tinge of blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. 

“Well, it was because I wanted to give you this.” He produced a heavy silver envelope from his tweed jacket, the paper trembling as he offered it. 

Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty for having been upset with him. 

Trying to keep the shake out of your fingers, you took the envelope. The paper was heavy, black filigrees lined the corners, drifting into the middle around your name. Someone with exquisite penmanship had neatly inscribed your full name in the middle of the envelope. 

You glanced up to find him watching you anxiously. You slipped the card out of the envelope, finding it was hand-lettered on heavy, handmade paper. Information about the party was inscribed across the card. You knew it was in a fancy district, but not the exact address. 

“Sir?” you asked, looking up at him again. 

“Do you want to attend with me?” He had a pleading look to his eyes. “I would understand if you didn’t want to…”

“No, of course, I mean, I want to go, I just didn’t realize…” Your face was burning. 

“Oh, right. I guess you thought…well I didn’t want to ask anyone else,” Aizen smiled. “I just didn’t know how to ask you.” 

“I didn’t make it easy on you,” you laughed. 

He laughed, faint lines appearing around his eyes. Your heart melted. Those lines only appeared when he was genuinely laughing at something. 

“No, well, I didn’t expect you to, so forgiven?”

You nodded. 

“I’ll pick you up that night?”

“Sure,” you answered, though you didn’t want him to see the shabby apartment you called home. Too late now. Besides, he was a professor, you figured he knew that most students and TAs didn’t live in luxury. 

He wrote down your address and put the paper in his tweed coat. 

“Thank you,” he said, escorting you to the lecture room door. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“No problem,” you said. Already you were wondering if you had something in your closet that would work or if you were going to have to beg or borrow. 

The two of you parted ways, you in much better spirits than the previous night. 

**

Aizen eyed the dress he had selected for you, knowing it would be perfect. He tucked the handwritten note in, so that it was on the very top. He knew that you would appreciate the dress and the time period he had selected. 

He couldn’t wait to see you in it. The dress had been selected from the time you had been hired as his TA, when he was finally able to put your scent with your face. 

While Aizen could have slipped into your apartment and measured your clothing, even he found that very creepy and opted for something loose-fitting in a range of sizes. 

As much as he had wanted to, Aizen had never set foot in your apartment. As his mate, it would have been allowed, but he respected you and your privacy too much to invade your space. 

It wouldn’t matter too much after tonight, because more than likely you would be coming to live with him at the big house on the hill. Although, there was something to be said about having a smaller, private space. 

All those details would be ironed out. Aizen never even let himself doubt that you would refuse to join him. 

**

The next morning, you dedicated yourself to getting ready, styling your hair, watching makeup tutorials, and trying to throw something together from your closet that would be fancy enough for what you knew was an expensive party. 

Aizen didn’t have any lectures on Friday nights, so although this was a little short notice, it had worked out for the best.

Someone buzzed your apartment with a package around noon. You ran down with hair tumbling from curlers and in a robe to see what the package might be, as you hadn’t ordered anything. 

It was a long, dark box from an exclusive dress shop in town. Trembling, you opened the lid right in the entryway to discover a heavily beaded dress in black and silver. It was a 20s remake, classy flapper with intricate beading and geometric design. 

The note sitting on top read: _I hope this is a good match. I took a guess with the size, but the sales lady assured me that it would fit just about anyone and look wonderful. I thought you might appreciate the style, based on our Gatsby discussions in class. -Aizen_

You stood in the doorway, speechless for at least five minutes. 

Peeking at the size, you figured it would work. You rushed up home and pulled it over your head, just to make sure. It was loose in the right spaces, perhaps even a little bigger than you tended to wear, but it was stunning. 

The fringe fell just above your knees, providing a healthy dose of thigh. The V-neck provided a modest view of your cleavage. You ran your hands over the fabric, admiring how much you pictured yourself as the role of Daisy now. You just hoped that the night went better for you, than it did for Gatsby. 

You couldn’t keep your eyes or hands off the dress throughout the day as you tried to get ready. You were too giddy and nervous to eat much, but you knew that you must. 

Finally, you had pulled yourself together as best as you could and you couldn’t stand being in your apartment one more minute. You raced downstairs to wait. 

Beneath the dress you had picked your laciest bra and panties, in black of course, with a garter belt and stockings, and your cutest pair of black heels. You had finally tamed your hair into a style you liked and set your makeup. To shield against the chill, you had wrapped a lacy white shawl around your shoulders. 

All that was left to do was wait for your date to show up. The thought briefly crossed your mind that perhaps he might stand you up. You squashed it down. 

Aizen’s familiar car pulled up in front of your apartment building. Not trying to seem overeager, you hurried out to meet him at his passenger door. 

Behind those glasses, you watched his soft brown eyes widen. His mouth gaped open for just a moment as he looked you up and down. You gave a little spin, to give him the full effect. 

He was dressed in an older style black and white tux, hair combed back and glasses in place. 

“Is this okay?” you asked. 

“O-okay?” Aizen asked. “It’s perfect. You look good enough to eat,” he told you with a little wink. 

“Maybe later,” you replied cheekily. 

As he opened the passenger door for you, you heard him say something, but it wasn’t clear. 

The interior of his car was warm against the chilly night air. In seconds, Aizen was in the car beside you, heading off for the party. Any doubt you had now about his character would just have to wait. He was a tenured professor; you didn’t think he was a murderer, though that little seed of doubt was in the back of your mind. You had watched the crime shows. 

But still, this was Professor Aizen, with his easygoing personality and laid-back nature. You figured you were probably pretty safe. 

“The dress was a good fit?” Aizen asked as the two of you cruised along. 

“Yes. You did great,” you replied. “You didn’t have to, really.” 

You knew how much dresses from that particular store tended to run and you knew that professors were not rich. You had initially felt guilty until you slid the dress over your head, realized that Aizen had made a special trip to the store for you, picked this out knowing you would probably relent and wear it. 

“I know, but I wanted you to have something special. This is a special night, after all.” 

“Thank you. Special night?” you asked. 

“Yes. A special celebration,” Aizen continued.

You felt an unexplained shiver at his words. It wasn’t like your professor to be so cryptic. 

“Like a wedding or something?” 

“You could say that,” Aizen said, shrugging as he continued making turns. 

Something was nagging at you, the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. The invitation hadn’t given you much information either. You supposed that Aizen was entitled to his secrets. You knew very little about his personal life and operated on the teacher persona he presented during lectures. 

“Keep your secrets,” you teased, hoping that would lighten the suddenly tense mood. 

“I intend to for just a little longer,” he said. 

You hated to press further, so you kept silent, watching your surroundings, should you need to suddenly leave. If Aizen turned out to not be who you thought he was. 

The longer you thought about it, the more you wondered if he was just nervous. You had never seen him with any other female staff, or any staff really. 

He rolled down a long driveway to a huge house, lit brightly from within with partygoers outside drinking and laughing. A valet came to receive the car and for some reason that lessened the fear for you. 

“Ready?” Aizen asked, smile in place as he proffered his arm for you. 

“Sure,” you answered, wrapping your fingers around the lightly muscled limb. 

The two of you climbed the stairs as Aizen greeted and nodded at people he knew. His friends…you didn’t know if you could call them that, eyed you warily but greeted you when introduced. 

You would never remember their names, you were sure. A drink was pressed into your hand, but you hesitated to partake. It was red, so you assumed wine. 

If you drank, you stuck to white wine because they tended to be sweeter. You weren’t fond of bitter or hard. You were a wuss, you knew, but you preferred your liver to still be working when you were older. 

Looking around, you really felt like Daisy. Everything was glittery and over the top, people dressed to the nines. 

“Whose party is this?” you asked, without really expecting an answer. 

“Truthfully?” Aizen asked, spinning you around in the huge foyer, pulling you close. You could smell the faintest whiff of his aftershave. The spin was so flawless that not one drop of your drink spilled on the expensive parquet flooring.

“Yes,” you replied, wondering if he was having you on. 

“It’s my party,” Aizen replied, so low and close to your ear that you shivered from the intimacy. 

Stunned, you pulled away from his embrace. 

Those brown eyes were dancing with mirth at your expression, light catching the reflection of his glasses and flashing. 

“Sir?” you asked, then took a big gulp of the drink to wet your suddenly dry throat. The drink didn’t taste anything like what you were expecting. It was tangy and bright, with a faint undertone of metal.

Aizen laughed and reached for you, taking your free hand. “It is my party and this is my house.”

“You really are Jay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to your date. 

“Well, I was there when the book was written,” Aizen said. “I may or may not have been an influence,” he whispered in your ear. You melded against him. 

“You’re having me on,” you said, but didn’t believe it. There was something old in his eyes that you couldn’t identify, some truth to his statement. 

Suddenly, the party felt much different. 

“_____ I brought you here tonight because I think you understand me best,” Aizen said. His hands were warm, large, holding your frame carefully with a raw power coursing just beneath the surface. 

“Sir?” you whispered. “Brought me here for what?” 

The two of you fit so perfectly together. Whatever was in the drink had warmed you up pleasantly, your blood pounding through your veins, limbs loose and free. 

“To join me, as my vampire mate.”

This time when you looked up into his eyes, you could see the truth there. His eyes had turned a bright purple that were almost painful to look at, but you found you were powerless in his grasp. 

“Professor?” you asked, voice soft, distant. 

“Call me Sosuke,” he murmured, nuzzling into your neck, beneath your curls of hair. 

As he danced slowly with you in the foyer, it all made sense. He was only seen at night, only lectured at night. He knew the material as if he had been there, pushing the pen, or in some cases the quill. 

“Sosuke,” you whispered, tasting his real name on your lips. 

“Mmm, I like when you say it,” he moaned against your neck, fingers digging possessively into your flesh. 

Nothing felt real for a few minutes as the two of you turned slow circles. Some part of your brain refused to believe him, that vampires were real. 

“Why me?” you asked, more to yourself than him. The familiar strains of a waltz came to you every now again on the cool breeze. Conversations clicked in and out. 

“You understand me, like no woman has before. You not only understand me, you’re able to keep up with me. You’re the mate I’ve been searching for centuries to find. I’ll prove it.” 

Aizen took your wrist, licking over the tender flesh there and sending buzzing shivers racing down your spine. All the while, those mesmerizing purple eyes watched you. Your core grew wet and hungry for entrance under his scrutiny.

“Look,” Sosuke said, framing a mark on your wrist between his index and middle fingers. 

There was a clear crescent shape there, purpling over like a bruise but without pain. He held his opposite wrist out for your inspection. He had the same mark, outlined just like a simple tattoo. 

“How did you know I had it?” you asked, transfixed as his fingers slowly traced the mark. 

“I could smell it, in a way,” Aizen explained. You caught a hint of his extended canines. 

He licked his lips as he continued to watch you. Gods, you were beautiful, standing here with him tonight. Your blood just begged to have him taste it. He could hear it singing through your veins. But not yet. It would have to be in private, otherwise there would be a fight. 

“My God, you really are…” You voice trailed off. 

A knowledge settled into your stomach, cold but not unpleasant. This man, that you desired, was fated for you, had been searching for you. 

Without thinking, you reached up and pressed your lips against Sosuke’s, feeling the firm but silky texture. It took him less than a heartbeat to answer your touch, dipping you down as he kissed you soundly. 

The atmosphere of the party changed around you, as if a shockwave had been sent through the attendees with your kiss. 

Suddenly, there were couples coming to congratulate you from all directions as Aizen held you protectively by his side, a firm grip on your waist. 

People were actually bowing to you. Your chest tightened up as you nodded to them. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a small, dark haired woman watching you with bloodshot eyes. When you turned fully to acknowledge her, she was gone. 

“Do you have to drink my blood?” you asked, once things had calmed down and it was mostly just the two of you again. 

“Yes, but during a special, _private_ ritual,” Aizen said, big fingers stroking your back. 

You loved the sound of that. Even the lightest, most innocent touches had you primed for the bedroom. 

Sosuke introduced you to the rest of his vampire council trio, Gin and Tosen. 

Something about Gin, his wide smile that didn’t meet his eyes, set you on edge. Tosen’s cold, calculating nature also set you off. You had seen them on occasion around the campus but didn’t realize they were connected. 

“Welcome, queen,” Gin whispered to you. “We do hope you enjoy your _short_ stay.” His voice was low enough that you’re not sure Aizen heard him, being engaged in conversation nearby. 

“Of course,” you said politely. 

“Are you ready?” Aizen asked, nodding towards a set of stairs. 

“What about all these people?” you asked. The party still looked like it was in full swing and not going to wind down. 

“They have to stay until the ritual is complete.”

You had yet to find out what the ritual was, though you had some ideas. 

“They’re not going to watch, right?” you asked, cheeks flushing with color. 

“No. Like before, they’ll know. Hive-mind kind of thing and I don’t expect you to be very quiet.” 

Sosuke could barely contain his excitement, watching the flush of your cheeks, the swell of your breast. He could smell your arousal for him. 

The two of you departed for the smaller, almost hidden staircase. Aizen couldn’t keep his hands off of you, now that the two of you were no longer the center of attention.

His big hands moved across your back and waist as he planted sloppy, glasses-askew kisses to your neck and collarbone. You muffled your cries against his chest, body burning pleasantly wherever he touched. 

“I’ve dreamed about having you in my bed for the longest time,” Aizen whispered in your ear, nipping your earlobe. 

Good, because you had dreamed the same thing for a long time; you tell him. 

Your panties were soaked, thighs damp as he helped you up the stairs. 

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Tell me about those dreams,” Aizen commanded as he threw open the doors to his bedroom. 

Everything had been prepped, candles lit, the curtains drawn back from the four-poster bed, fresh linens and a duvet. Nearby, a bottle of something chilled as a fire blazes in the fireplace, warming the air. 

You gulped, sweat beading up on your spine. 

Behind you, Aizen closed and locked the doors so that the two of you wouldn’t be interrupted. 

“Well, you remove my clothes, piece by piece,” you tell him, thankful for the semidarkness that hides the worst of your blush. 

“Mmmm, that can be arranged,” Aizen says, coming to stand behind you. You feel more than hear, him loosen his tie and toss it aside. You shiver in anticipation. 

There is no zipper on your dress, so long fingers gather it at the hem and pull it over your head. You hear the beaded garment hit the floor. 

“You wore these for me?” Aizen asks, those fingers tracing over the straps of your garter belt. You had wanted it to be authentic and had pulled the belt out of the back of your drawers.

You nod, because having Aizen notice them is amazing. 

He pulls one of the elastic straps and lets it go with a soft “pop” against your goose-fleshed skin. A sharp intake of breath and a little moan spills from your mouth.

Aizen smiles wickedly and you find you quite like this side of him. 

“I love them,” he says, licking his lips. He grabs another strap and lets it pop you too. 

Standing behind you, he runs his hands down your lace-covered chest, finding your pert nipples to roll and squeeze. Your head automatically falls against his chest contentedly. You had imagined some version of this dance in your head for a while now. 

“Mmmm,” he lightly moans, dipping his calloused, ink-stained fingers beneath the lace cups to trace little circles in your flesh. “So tender.” 

You simply nod in agreement, more little sounds of pleasure falling from your lips as he dips his fingers lower, tracing your dusky, pebbled areolas to tease you more thoroughly. You raise your chest, hoping he’ll pinch your nipples again, but he knows that’s what you’re craving. 

The more he works your body, the wetter your core becomes. 

“Tell me more about your dreams,” Aizen encourages, lifting your breasts from their holdings, massaging them in his huge palms. 

You’re not sure you can tell him more, but you try. 

You lick your lips and say, “As you remove my clothes, your mouth is all over me.”

Aizen squeezes your breasts and whispers, “Be specific my love.” He licks a trail from the curve of your neck to your shoulder to the just below your ear. 

“M-my neck,” you moan as his saliva begins to dry. 

“Mmm.” He sucks the tender flesh there as he manipulates the globes of your chest until you are sure there is a big red mark. 

“And here?” he asks, kissing the back of your neck. You moan. 

His fingers leave your breasts, the sudden loss of contact leaves them cold as goosebumps appear which cause you to quiver. Instead, he unsnaps your bra, drawing it slowly down your arms and tossing it to the side. 

“What about here?” he asks, before planting a kiss to one shoulder blade and then the other. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “There.”

This ritual continues with Aizen selecting places on your upper torso, to kiss or suck, as you react for him. 

Sosuke sucks one nipple greedily into his mouth, purple eyes watching you through his glasses. You thread your fingers into his wavy brown hair, tugging gently as he rolls your nipple around with his tongue. The vampire’s mouth makes a sinful pop as he lets go of one and moves to the other. 

The breast he isn’t sucking is encompassed by his hand as he expertly kneads the flesh. You alternate between watching with fascination and giving yourself over to pleasure.

“Here?” Aizen asks, lapping a trail down your abdomen, to the top of your lacy garter belt.

“Gods yes,” you cry, tightening your grip on his hair. 

He makes quick work of your garter belt, unfastening it from your stockings. “These, stay on,” he informs you, running a hand up your calf, over the stockings. 

Your garter belt joins the rest of your clothes in a small, nearby pile. 

Aizen watches your face as he continues moving lower, nibbling the top of your lacy panties. He’s kneeling on the floor in front of you. 

“And here?” he grins, drawing your panties down to kiss the spot above your pubis. 

“Mhm.” Your hands are now down at your sides, anxious to be curled back in his thick locks. 

Long, slender fingers continue to slide your panties down your thighs, your ankles, where they are finally kicked to the side. 

“Leave these on too,” the professor tells you, stroking your heels. 

You nod, then moan as his hands guide you to the edge of the bed. Your lover encourages you to lay back on the bed as he gently opens your legs, exposing your glistening pussy to his view. 

The game continues as Sosuke kisses his way up your thighs. The scent of your core is intoxicating. He can’t wait to taste your juices, even more than your blood. You respond so perfectly to him, just as he imagined, even more. 

“So perfect,” he whispers, studying you spread out before him. Aizen feels the heat crawl across your body at his compliment. “Beautiful.” 

You mumble, “thank you” as you grasp the silken bedspread. 

“And, did I kiss here?” Aizen asks, hovering just over your naked core. His glasses are gone, eyes more vibrant in their nakedness. 

You bite your lip and nod as he licks your slit with the tip of his hot tongue. The folds part easily for him, already slick with the evidence of your want. You taste so sweet. 

He licks you off his lips, savoring the flavor before he dives back in. His fingers dig into the tender skin of your thighs, holding your legs still as he continued to lap at your sweet center. 

With each pass, you grew a little more undone. Your whole body was flushed, the strings behind your stomach unraveling, you knew that something that not many men have been able to do was about to erupt. You moaned, back arching from the bedspread. 

A big hand reached out, pressing you back down. Sosuke’s other hand had moved from your thigh, fingers circling your entrance, drawing away some of the fluid as his tongue slurped at your clit. 

You cried out, feeling all loss of control as he slipped one finger inside your wet, waiting channel. 

“That’s it,” Aizen encouraged, voice husky with lust. “Make those beautiful sounds for me.” 

The professor added a second finger, scissoring and stretching you. He curved the fingers, arching for your sweet spot. This time, you arched off the bed, trying to lock your thighs around his head. 

“Gods,” you panted. Your previous sexual experiences paled in comparison to this one. Those had been short and more about speed instead of worship. 

Aizen was playing your body the same way someone would play a Stratovarius in a private concerto for royalty; soulful, graceful, and warm. He knew what places to stimulate to achieve the best reactions out of you, taking his time and seeing to your needs first. Your head was reeling, the cords of pleasure ready to break soon. 

“Please,” you moaned, although you had no idea exactly what you were begging for. Did you want him to stop or continue? 

“Come for me,” Sosuke said quietly, continuing to lap at your center. Seconds later, his tongue joined his fingers inside of you and you broke. 

Aizen felt your body milking his fingers and tongue tasting your gushing sweet nectar, that was sweeter than any blood he has ever had. Just what he was hoping when he smelled you all that time ago.

Your orgasm shattered you. Your thighs framed his head, fingers rucked up the bedspread, and back painfully arched off the bed. 

You rode out your high under his careful watch. Panting, you let your limbs go as he continued to clean you up with his tongue. Things were pleasantly hazy as you lay there in the semi-dark, the light from the candles and the fire flickering over the two of you. 

“Mmmm,” you moaned as Aizen carefully crawled up your body, the fabric of his tux rough against your sweating, aching body. 

His eyes were brighter, glazed with open lust as he captured your mouth in a searing, slow kiss. You could smell and taste yourself on him as he swirled his tongue around your own. You liked the taste of yourself coming from Aizen. 

“You’re amazing,” he praises you. 

“So are you,” you confess breathlessly. 

He cradled your head gently in his hands as he kissed you again, sensually. You fit so perfectly against him; he couldn’t wait to officially make you his in just a few moments. 

“The ritual,” he began, moving some of your hair out of your face. 

“Will it hurt?” you asked, eyeing his teeth. 

“Not but for a moment or two,” Aizen said. 

“And I’ll never age?” you asked. 

“Just very slowly,” Aizen answered, giving you another kiss, threading his fingers in your thick hair and holding you close. 

“Okay,” you breathed, gazing deeply into those purple orbs, quickly darkening with need. 

“You’ve already drunk some of the blood,” he explained. “In that glass earlier. Since there were no ill effects, you should bond well.” 

That was why the drink had that metallic aftertaste. A quick, cold feeling shifted through you and it must have shown on your face. 

“But that isn’t enough to have turned you,” your lover chuckled. “Just to give you a heightened awareness.” 

You relaxed. That was why everything seemed different, why you felt more aware, more alive. This could be an addicting feeling, you realized. 

“Mmm, I could get used to this,” you sighed, stretching slightly. 

“I hope so.” He nipped your nose. 

Aizen rose gracefully from the bed, starting on his shirt buttons. You propped up on your elbows to watch. 

He revealed a toned chest, untucking his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. You had felt the muscles before when he was hovering over you, but to see them was breathtaking. There was muscle definition but not hard carved, just smooth plains, perfect for wandering hands. 

Slowly, keeping eye contact, Sosuke slowly unzipped his pants, pushing them down his hips along with his underwear. He toed off his shoes and peeled away socks until he stood before you. 

His erection, which you had felt through his pants, was sizable. You saw now why it was necessary that he stretch and prepare you. His length and girth were impressive. 

Taking his cock in one large hand, the vampire gave himself a few slow pumps, watching your expressions. You couldn’t help yourself, licking your lips as you imagined his manhood filling you up soon. 

You sat up. 

“May I?” you asked, reaching for his cock. You could see the glistening bead of pre-come making its way out of his head. 

He nodded, hand falling away as you wrapped your palm around him. It was warm, silken as you pumped him, watching his eyes close in pleasure. 

You parted your lips, taking the head into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You sucked lightly, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, as you palmed the rest. His hands came up, threading in your hair again, but not tugging. 

You enjoyed the moans and filthy little sounds of pleasure as you slowly worked your lips up and down his shaft. He just barely fit in your mouth without choking you. His taste was pleasant, clean with a little salt. 

You could practically feel the blood pulsing in the veins of his cock. 

“You’re entirely too good at this,” Aizen said, gazing down at you. 

You smiled around his member and continued sucking, speeding up a little, swirling your tongue around him. 

His head canted back and he swore. After a few seconds, he stopped you. 

“Not yet,” he said, breathless, holding your chin firmly in his fingers. He leaned down and kissed you soundly again, the combination of your bodies sweet and salty. 

You warmed at him being so flustered, how you had caused it. 

“Scoot back,” he commanded as the two of you began a horizontal dance of scooting and crawling. Every so often his body would brush against yours innocently as the two of you moved back to the throne of pillows.

His lips captured yours, hand threaded in your hair as he lay between your legs. You could feel the heat and weight of his erection poised at your entrance, breath hitching in your chest from anticipation. 

You wanted him inside you so badly that your core contracted with need. 

“Please, sir,” you moaned between kisses. 

“Of course,” he answered, slipping the tip past your folds. You moaned and tried to slide the rest of him inside you. “Patience. Savor it.” 

Slowly, Aizen sank into your damp heat, feeling every pulse and ridge of your walls around him. Your breath caught in your throat once he was fully sheathed inside you, taking in his girth and length. He filled you completely. 

Your lover peppered you with gentle kisses as he gave you time to adjust. Once you started responding, wrapping your tongue around his, Aizen started moving very slowly. 

You sighed and felt empty as his heat left you, clutching at his back, digging your nails deep into his skin trying to imitate how you assumed his teeth would dig into your neck. This makes him groan in euphoria as you wrap your thighs around his slender hips. 

“Impatient huh?” he asked, with a wicked smile that made you wet. 

“Nngh,” you panted as he grabs your arms tightly preparing you for the epic force that was coming as he slammed his hips inside you, fully sheathed once more. That familiar tightening behind your stomach was back and you weren’t sure you would last long with that kind of friction. 

“Like that?” he grinned down at you. The purple was almost fully overtaken by black, irises blown wide with lust. He stopped for a moment, thinking the change in his eyes would frighten you but it seemed to be the opposite when you arched your back, brushing against the hard planes of his chest. 

“Fuck yes,” you moaned. He did it again and chuckled. 

“A filthy mouth; never would have thought it,” he smiled. Another slam of his hips and Aizen wasn’t sure he could hold out much longer this first time either. It had been so long since he had been with anyone. Through the centuries, he had been with whores, princesses, and queens and they hadn’t been this perfect for him, not like you, all tight and hot and wet. 

“Nnnng, gods,” you panted, digging your fingers into his flesh hard enough to draw blood. Without thinking you licked the bead of his blood and found it satisfying. 

The only soundtrack in the room was the slap of sweaty, wet flesh as your bodies met with each hard thrust and the crackle of the fire in the background. 

Wickedly, Aizen teased you by slowing down and suckling your breasts as your thighs tightened around him, drawing him inside as deep as possible. Your pants and moans filled the air, you were past the point of making any sense. 

Your pussy pulsed and squeezed around his hard cock, hoping for a release soon. 

Aizen knew that he was going to have to bite you soon, once you reached climax to make the change complete, to make you his. You were exhausted but you didn’t want the primal lust to stop.

“Sosuke,” you moaned his name, trying to give him some kind of warning. The threads of your orgasm unrolled behind your belly and everything turned white hot as it burned through you. 

That was all the signal Aizen needed as his teeth penetrated your neck. Your blood was hot and sweet in his mouth; his cock twitched inside of you and his thrusts grew sloppy as he drank through his orgasm. 

As your orgasm raged through you, you went limp on the bed in Aizen’s embrace. The room was suddenly cold, your vision blurring on the edges. 

Just when you thought you might pass out, something warm and luscious filled your mouth. The vampire grew hard against your thigh again as you continued to drink, small slurping sounds filling the silence. 

“Stop,” he rasped, pulling your mouth away. You tried to get as much of the blood from around your lips as you could, panting and alive. Everything in the room was vivid and bright. Was this how it looked to Aizen all the time?

You looked to your lover’s face; he glowed with an ethereal light. Bringing your hand up to touch him, you quietly noted that you had the same light. 

“Is this how things are for you all the time?” you asked. 

“Yes, until I’m hungry. Then things dim.” 

He stroked your bare, clammy skin. You watched his fingers, mesmerized. You didn’t feel real anymore. 

He lay down and pulled you beside him. Your body felt heavy, sluggish now. 

“Sleep my queen,” he said softly, his fingers on your eyelids. 

You did.

**

You awoke sometime later, the fire still crackling, Sosuke holding you tight in an embrace. He was god-like asleep, glowing and burning for you. 

Slowly looking around, you wondered what woke you. The room did not appear out of place and yet something was amiss. 

You untangled yourself from the professor’s embrace and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the fire. Your body felt different, more sensitive, more alive. You had thought that as a vampire you would be dead, but so far nothing was what it seemed. 

Without your vampire senses, you would have been dead from the katana swung at your head. 

Instead, you heard the whistle of the blade swinging through the air and flung yourself on the floor to avoid it. 

A visceral scream came from above as a dark-haired tornado whirled and tried again. You rolled as the blade sliced into the expensive rug. 

“He turned you already,” a girl’s voice screamed from a dark corner of the room. 

“Yes,” Aizen answered softly, bringing the little woman in his grasp. 

You recognized her as the woman from earlier, the one you weren’t sure you had seen. She was pale, drawn. 

The sword glistened on the floor nearby. You leaned and reached for it, the steel cold in your hands. 

“You were supposed to turn me,” she sobbed. 

“No Hinamori. This is my queen now,” your lover explained. 

“I’ll never stop,” she said, glaring daggers at you. “Not until she’s dead, and you're mine.” 

You were sure she would have gone on, but you stabbed her in the belly. Dark eyes widened. 

Men, vampires you had probably met at the party burst into the room. Aizen handed them the intruder without another word. Hinamori wasn’t dead, but she wasn’t going to be hurting you soon. 

Aizen took you into his arms, shielding you from their eyes. 

“My beautiful queen,” he murmured in your ear before kissing you deeply. 


	16. [Sosuke Aizen x Reluctant! Reader – I can be your whore]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizen never kept his own stock, selling off the women that came through his business. There had been one woman that had come close to his idea of perfection, but he had let her go to that beast Grimmjow.   
> But you, were an exception. You had come in, drugged from the ride. A rare Terran.   
> Aizen didn’t know where they had picked you up and really didn’t care.   
> He kept you in his private office, not the stock room. You were lightly restrained; he wanted to see what you were made of when you came around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Honestly I don't have a specific scenario I want, just want some Aizen x Reader uwu  
> Comment Actions  
> Author’s Note: You got it! Set in the same universe as the Grimmjow alien ones, so this is more a non-con/reluctant at first. Aizen keeps you for his own personal amusement. 
> 
> [Sosuke Aizen x Reluctant! Reader – I can be your whore]  
> Title inspired by the song of the same title by In This Moment.   
> Next: Jealous! Grimmjow x reader  
> After: male!reader x Urahara  
> Beyond: Coyote Stark x reader

Aizen never kept his own stock, selling off the women that came through his business. There had been one woman that had come close to his idea of perfection, but he had let her go to that beast Grimmjow. 

But you, were an exception. You had come in, drugged from the ride. A rare Terran. 

Aizen didn’t know where they had picked you up and really didn’t care. 

He kept you in his private office, not the stock room. You were lightly restrained; he wanted to see what you were made of when you came around. 

Gently, he sponged off your skin. Underneath, you were a radiant beauty. There were markings carved into your skin, runes and symbols, pictures. 

He supposed you were from some kind of nomad area, a magic woman, priestess. So a very valuable prize indeed. 

As he continued cleaning, you moaned a little. The sound went straight to his groin. 

You had come to him with no clothing, but he imagined you were regal in the outfits of your planet. Your body was in great shape, breasts perfect mounds for fondling, thicker muscled thighs, bare pussy even glistening with pleasure after he cleaned you up. 

Aizen never bothered with these things himself usually, but you were special. Gooseflesh dappled sensitive areas where he had cleaned, nipple drawing into a bud, the skin crinkling at the areola area. 

You moaned again, louder, head lolling on your shoulders. He couldn’t ignore the growing bulge in his trousers. 

You were semi-special to him, he wanted to try the goods as he has always done before, without hesitation.

But there was something different when he looked at you, he felt something and not just in his lower region. Aizen didn’t know why, but he felt that he should wait till you were conscious. 

**

When you finally came to, you realized that you were no longer moving through the cold dead of space. The ship had been freezing and your clothes had been taken to be “sanitized.” You figured that meant burned or let out of a hatch somewhere. 

In any case, you knew you weren’t going to see them again right before the big needle had plunged into your neck. 

Now, you stared around your confines, vision blurry. Sluggishly, you tried to move your arms to find that they were restrained. Gods, your head hurt. What had they injected you with? It felt awful. 

Something important was there on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t get it to come to fruition. Something about this situation…

As you were staring to see and think more clearer you see a shadowy figure walking towards you.

“Ah, you have awakened. Welcome to paradise, sweetie.” 

You look around and then at him.

“If this is paradise then send me to a nightmare,” you say, spitting.

Aizen laughed. You had spunk; he had to give you that, but he wasn’t giving you much.

You had heard stories about women being taken and disappearing, taken by invaders from the sky. You had warned your own tribe about it. 

And here you were, caught in a deadly web with a beautiful spider. A spider very interested in devouring you. 

Make no mistake, the spider before you was gorgeous. Soft waves of milk chocolate hair combed back, with one wicked little streak hanging in his face. Deviously warm brown eyes watched out of a carved face. He was tall, broad, smoothly muscled beneath the loose, white robes he wore. 

As appalled as you were at having being captured, at least you were in the hands of someone Terran looking, not beasts who would simply rip you apart. Of course, what he had in mind for you, from the look on his face, being ripped apart might be better. 

You didn’t think they had targeted you specifically. You had been out for a midnight stroll, unable to sleep. They must have been watching, waiting for an opportunity to grab the first person who appeared, who wandered away. 

“What do you want from me?” You asked. 

“I think you know,” he said, carefully looking you over. 

Your body. That was what this was all about. You were a piece of meat, brought for pleasure. 

You had been with men, but on your terms, never theirs. 

Twisting in the shackles, you realized that there was little to no chance of escape. Sure, you could probably dissolve the metal eventually but then it would be a waiting game that might turn deadly faster. 

This man was going to have his way with you and there would probably be nothing you could do except resign yourself to your fate. It could be worse. You relaxed, as limp and lifeless as possible.

The man “tsked” several times as he unhooked your bonds. 

“Now, now,” he said, trying to pull you to your feet. “I would like to see more fight in you.” 

More fight huh?

You hit him in the chest with a low-level stunner but were horrified to see that only seemed to amuse him. A little puff of white smoke was all you had to show. 

“Performance issues?” he breathed in your ear, taking both of your wrists in one large hand. 

This time you summoned something more powerful, releasing the shock between you. There, that should have made him let go. 

You were satisfied this time to see that both of you were laying on the separate spots on the floor, panting heavily. 

“Aizen-sama?” someone questioned from the closed door. 

Oh shit, you’d heard of him; the terrible things he had done were legendary. 

“I’m fine,” he yelled back, wiping a little blood from his lip, gaze firmly fixed on you. 

You crawled away, hoping to beat him to the door, trying anything to save yourself. That energy blast had sapped most of your strength, but you had to do something to stop feeling powerless. 

“That was what I had in mind,” he laughed, languidly getting to his feet and following you. 

You screamed as he pinned you to the floor, knees on either side of you, long fingers grabbing your hair and forcing your neck back painfully. You kicked and fought, even knowing it wouldn’t do much good. 

Whatever drugs you had been injected with had altered your magic. 

“What a little hellion I’ve got in my grasp,” he said calmly, giving your hair an experimental tug. 

You were so tired now. It wouldn’t really matter what he did now. You stopped moving beneath him. 

Immediately, he released your hair, getting off of you long enough to roll you over. Your face was tear-streaked, sweaty, and even still a little dirty. But you could feel the hardness of his excitement through your abdomen where he kept you pinned. 

Aizen’s brown orbs watched you. Yes, once the drugs wore off you would be a force to be reckoned with; exactly what he had hoped for and then some. 

Beneath him, you looked like an avenging angel, ready to destroy the world given the first chance. Exactly what he wanted from you. 

You didn’t turn your face when he leaned down to kiss you, lips crashing against your own, tongue lashing against your lips, hoping for entrance. Your body bucked in response, mouth opening just enough to grant him entrance. 

He moaned into the kiss, hands grasping your own to keep you from going anywhere. You didn’t want to admit it, but Aizen had plenty of experience kissing. Out of your lovers, he was probably the most experienced. 

The kiss was rough, drawing blood from your lips. You knew they would be bruised within the hour. 

Aizen didn’t speak as he left your mouth in ruin, biting and sucking your neck, starting with your jaw. You cried out but that just seemed to make him bite harder. 

Between the apex of your thighs, you could feel your slick arousal. Traitorous bitch, you thought, as this man dominated you. 

In your encounters, you had always been the one in charge. 

Your back arched as he nipped the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, moving to the hardness of your peaks. Brown eyes closed in bliss as he slipped one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling the peak around in the warm, damp cavern. 

Little sounds forced themselves past your lips into the chilly air of his holding room. You didn’t want to enjoy this and yet you were. 

The man holding your body hostage moaned, the sound vibrating through your ribcage. You tried to squirm, to alleviate the further dampening of your quim, but that just succeeded in making you burn hotter. 

Glancing up at your flushed face, Aizen swapped nipples, starting to feel you come undone beneath him. His tongue laved more attention to your areola then left it out in the chill air for contrast. 

“Please,” you whimpered, not clear on whether you wanted him to stop or continue. 

“We’re just getting started,” Aizen told you, eyes darkening with want and need. 

His tongue slipped between the valley of your breasts as he lapped a trail down your body to your bellybutton. Gods, the contrasts of his warm, soft tongue to the chilly air had you practically melting for him.

This was agony. It would have been easier if he had merely killed you. You wouldn’t be enjoying this so much. 

You tried to reach for him, to stop him from scenting your core, only to realize that you were back to being restrained. When had that happened? While you were enjoying yourself, allowing pleasure to override the danger circuits in your brain. 

Aizen loved the confusion on your face, mixed with the unwilling pleasure. His tongue swirled around your bellybutton as he moved lower still. 

He kept a firm grip on your legs as he opened them, the petals of your quim open and begging for entrance. You continued to try to squirm for a little bit longer beneath his predatory gaze until your muscles were aching. 

Tentatively, Aizen reached a long, slender finger out, dragging just the knuckle through the slick folds. You moaned, face flushed as you turned your head to rest it on the cool floor. 

Using just the pad of his thumb, your captor manipulated your clit in slow little circles. You bit your already bruised lip to keep from crying out, but still little sounds escaped. 

“Look at me,” Aizen asked, as he slipped one finger inside you. Greedily, your walls clenched around him. 

You continued to resist, keeping your head turned. You didn’t want to look at the man who was conquering you. Didn’t want to see his smug satisfaction that you were giving in. 

“No,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“Look at me,” he said a little more forcefully, burying fingers inside of you up to the hilt. 

Your eyes flew open from the pressure, breathing in rapid little gasps. His fingers curled, hitting that spot inside of you that threatened to be your complete undoing. 

“Nnng!” You bit your lip, trying to keep from giving him the satisfaction. But your eyes locked with his and you could see the lust dancing there. 

“That’s better,” Aizen praised, fingers stroking your walls, brushing over that hard, spongy part that made your eyes roll back in your head. 

The primal part of you wanted this, wanted nothing more than to lock your thighs around his head and force him to pleasure you. 

Perhaps…if you were not going to get out of this, then why not exude little strands of suggestion to get what you wanted, have some control over the pleasure? 

You tried, watching as a thick head of chocolate hair pressed between your legs, tongue swirling in your fluids. Your thighs relaxed somewhat in his grasp and you allowed yourself a moment of enjoyment. 

This Aizen, was talented with his tongue. He slipped it inside of you, as far as it would go, lapping your fluids and smearing them on his nose and chin. 

“Mmm,” you encouraged, resisting the urge to lock your thighs around his head just yet. You were getting close, feeling that familiar heat in your stomach. 

“You taste exquisite,” Aizen said, looking up at you, face shining with your arousal. He wiped his face on a sleeve and slid his fingers back inside you, more insistent on stretching and preparing you. 

He knew what he was doing alright, leaving you on the edge of your climax. 

“I wasn’t going to do this, but I’m helpless,” Aizen said as he reached above you to release your bonds. 

Taking a fistful of your hair, Aizen rolled you up to your knees as he pushed his trousers down and released his rock-hard erection. You kept your lips firmly pressed together as he pressed the reddened helmet, smeared with pre-come to your mouth.

“You can open that pretty mouth yourself, or I can open it for you,” he tells you, voice soft with a firm undercurrent. Your captor turns your head just enough for you to see his wall of tools, included gleaming stretchers.

Despite your tough exterior, you shiver as a cold stone settles into your stomach. He was once again reminding you who was in charge this time. 

“No need,” you tell him quietly.

“I thought you would see it my way.” 

His cock is once again at your mouth and you quietly part your lips. 

The flesh is warm, silky, and slightly salty. He makes the faintest noises as he slides further into your mouth. One hand holds his cock still, the other is tangled smartly in your hair, pulling you down on his shaft as he slowly fucks your hot little mouth. 

You didn’t want to enjoy this, but it was interesting to see how much he got off on you having your mouth wrapped around his most sensitive parts. Small sounds of pleasure spilled from his lips, encouragement meant to spur you on. 

“So wicked,” he murmured, eyes closed, head back. 

You swirled your tongue around his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back. You felt his cock twitch and knew that he was getting close. 

Perhaps if you got him off, he would be more willing to give you some sort of freedom. You weren’t naive enough to believe he would let you go. 

“Fuck…” he moaned as you moved your tongue again. You wanted to hate the fact that he was turning you on, that the tops of your thighs were damp again, stemming from your apex. 

Just before he exploded, Aizen pulled your mouth away from his swollen, glistening member. You were almost too skilled at that. He had been torn between wanting to continue and let his hot seed slide down your throat or marking your pussy as he had originally intended. 

“Now, now my pet, the main event is about to begin.” 

Keeping his grip on your hair, your captor kicked his trousers down his legs and lay down on the floor, pulling you on top of him. 

Large, long-fingered hands gripped your hips, but you were in charge. The ache between your legs had reached a boiling point. You hovered over his cock, rubbing the tip through your glistening folds, teasing just a little more. 

Your head canted back as you impaled yourself on him, the appendage stretching you to your limit. This was the biggest you’d ever had, your walls fluttering and tremoring as you sank fully. Fingers raked his bared chest, nails leaving angry red marks in their wake.

Aizen chuckled, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze as his hips bucked up into you. Gods you were tight; he moaned as your hot, slick channel accepted another pound of his hips. 

You lifted yourself slightly, dropping down harshly and feeling his dick hit that sensitive spot inside you. You moaned, curtain of hair coming down and obscuring your vision. 

Soon, you and Aizen had a steady pace struck up as you rode him. At some point, you leaned over and gave him a frenzied, feverish kiss; anything to quench the burning sensation flowing through your body. 

No other sexual encounter matched this one. Why had you been so reluctant before?

His thick cock twitched inside you again; he was close and you knew you couldn’t hold out much longer. 

Aizen rose up, one hand cradling your neck as you continued to slide up and down his shaft. Warm lips found a nipple and sucked harshly; you screamed as this pushed you over the edge. Your pussy walls clenched and shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you. 

Your captor smiled as he released your nipple and pressed his mouth to yours. He moaned into the kiss as his hot seed joined your release. 

You sat in his lap for a long time, dimly aware of his hands stroking your cooling flesh. There was no denying it; you had given yourself to him, whatever that would mean beyond the circle of his arms later. 

For now, you nuzzled into his chest and allowed yourself a moment of rest. 


	17. [Grimmjow x Reader - Champion]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimm knew from the moment he saw you riding on the back of that Harley with Hisagi he had to have you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Request: I know you have already done Grimmjow but I honestly can’t get enough of him. Especially a jealous Grimmjow ;)]  
> Author’s Note: I think Grimm is probably my favorite to write. There’s just something about him…mmmm. Anyway, thought I would venture into new territory: Motorcycle Club. Now, this is all purely fictionalized and just me borrowing from what I know and mixing it with whatever to make it work. So please, don’t think this is an accurate representation of clubs, as I have no idea. When I was young, I worked with some motorcycle clubs, but they were super informal chapters.   
> Also, shorter story this time around. Still working through requests in the order they are received. Do we like the shorter or longer stories? Mix of both?  
> [Grimmjow x Reader - Champion]  
> Next: Male!Reader x Urahara  
> After: Coyote Stark x Reader  
> Beyond: Izuru x female reader

Grimm knew from the moment he saw you riding on the back of that Harley with Hisagi he had to have you. You weren’t one of the low-level girls, the ones that opened their legs for anyone and everyone in the clubhouse. 

No, you were the granddaughter of the president, Barragan. 

And you had started pledging to another club – the Soul Reapers, just to piss your grandfather off. You didn’t want his legacy handed down to you, which Grimm respected, you wanted to fight and take it over. 

The Arrancars and the Soul Reapers didn’t have as much bad blood between them now, since the Quincies had been mostly contained. 

But still, when Grimm caught you hanging out with Shuhei Hisagi, it made his blood boil. He didn’t know why either; it wasn’t like you even noticed him or anything. 

You didn’t look anything like your grandfather and Grimm hadn’t known your parents. You were beautiful in a fierce way, with your leather jacket, form-fitted moto pants, and boots. Any patches on your jacket had been earned through blood, sweat, and tears. 

At the annual cookout, an event to show good faith between the clubs, Grimm sipped his beer as he lounged in a worn-out lawn chair. You had shown up alone, been given a beer, and pulled into conversation. 

As he took a long pull, Grimm committed little details to memory. The way your eyes sparkled when something amused you, the way your lips wrapped snuggly around the mouth of the bottle as you sipped, the way you stood with one side slouched a little. 

Fuck if Hisagi didn’t show up and throw an arm around your shoulders. Like he owned you or something. 

Grimm ground his already sharp teeth, watching you snuggle into his too friendly embrace, laugh at his stupid jokes, his too flushed face. The blue-haired biker couldn’t take it anymore. 

He stomped over to your circle of friends without much of a plan. 

“Hey,” he demanded, sparking your attention. One sculpted eyebrow rose up, inquiring. 

“Yeah?” you asked, voice gruff with mirth and alcohol. 

This was as far as Grimmjow had gotten. His jaw tightened as he considered something else to say. 

“Is this guy bothering you?” he finally asked, motioning to a pretty drunk Hisagi. You grinned. 

“If he was, what are you going to do?” you murmured, giving Grimm a long, slow gaze from top to bottom and licking your lips. 

Hisagi slurred something in your ear. 

“I’d fight him,” Grimmjow confessed. This was followed by a few ‘Oooos’ from the little group surrounding you. This group of sharks smell blood and entertainment a mile away. 

“Really?” You asked, one eyebrow still quirked up. “We haven’t had a good fight in a while,” you say. “Might be interesting. What do you want if you win, because clearly you have something in mind.”

“I want to fuck you,” he confessed. “Just once.” 

He figured that he could have you once as opposed to not at all; maybe that would soothe the jealousy some. 

More bikers had come to surround you, laughing at his gumption. 

However, your eyes glittered with mirth. 

“Oh yeah?” You asked, sauntering towards him after shrugging Hisagi off. 

Grimm stood his ground and nodded. 

Without warning, you reached out and palmed him, small fingers creating friction between his skin and the jeans. You brazenly looked up into his face, smirking and then licking your lips as you felt him grow. 

Gods, you stroked beautifully! 

You were so close that Grimmjow could smell the leather of your jacket mixed faintly with something warm and feminine. 

He had to bite his lip to keep from moaning as you continued. You pressed your body flush against his, your breasts firm where your jacket parted. Without warning, you licked the side of his jaw. 

“Mmmm, maybe baby,” you purred. “Better hope you win, big boy.”

You stepped away, leaving him unfinished, blood pounding in his cock, the flesh straining the zipper. How was he going to fight when he could barely think?

Someone in the gathering crowd whistled and Shuhei moved forward. How had he sobered up so fast?

Grimm didn’t have time to consider what had happened to his competition before Shuhei was firing off a right hook. The blue-haired biker dodged, but barely. They collided and fell.

The fight was a tangle of arms and legs, blood and sweat. Grimm was a good fighter, great when he was able to concentrate. 

But today wasn’t that day. 

Grimmjow looked up at the bright blue sky, a steady stream of blood slipping into one eye. Above him, a bloodier Shuhei peered down. Grimm was pleased to see that he also had a nasty cut and a black eye. No more pretty boy for a week or two at least. 

“Hey,” you said softly, as two of your men hauled him to his feet. 

Checking his teeth, Grimm didn’t feel much more than a little blood. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you winked. It was more a gesture of goodwill to keep the peace between chapters, Grimmjow assumed, than because you wanted to. 

He started to refuse, but the thought of you touching him tenderly might be his only chance. 

“Che, fine,” he relented, following you to the clubhouse. 

“Hey!” Hisagi shouted after you. Without looking, you flipped him off.

The inside of the clubhouse was blessedly cool and dark. You took his hand, those small, devilish fingers wrapped around his longer digits as you guided him through the unfamiliar space. 

“This way,” you directed, pulling him into a private room, your room. 

You pushed him gently in the direction of the bed. 

“Sit,” you commanded. You retrieved the first aid kit from your dresser. Grimmjow looked around your room, noting it was functional and mostly devoid of any personal items. There was no trace of a male presence, much to his delight. 

“I’m not a kid,” the biker groused, crossing his arms over his finely muscled chest. His shirt was torn, jacket dirty with blood and grass. 

“I know, but I am your senior,” you continued as you dabbed some antiseptic on the graze above his left eye. Head wounds bleed like a bitch. 

“Che,” Grimm responded, unable to keep the smirk off his face. He was here alone with you after all. 

“Why did you want to fuck me?” You asked, point blank as you dressed his wound. 

You smiled, having rendered the infamous Grimmjow speechless for a few moments. You had taken note of him at other events, his prowess, his cat-like mannerisms. 

“Why not?” He finally countered, the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks. He raked a bruised, bloodied hand through his spiky blue hair. “I can fuck you better than Hisagi.”

You tried to hide your smile. You weren’t fucking Shuhei. He was enamored with Rangiku, who didn’t even know he existed. Hisagi used you to try to make her notice, but she was too wrapped up in Gin. 

Grimmjow’s jealousy was adorable. 

“Hm, well you didn’t win, but maybe a consolation prize. Gotta keep my reputation intact, you know.”

Grimmjow’s bright blue eyes met yours. 

You straddled his lap, powerful thighs gripping tightly as you would your bike. Within the blink of an eye, you threw your jacket to the side and pulled your shirt over your head. 

Grimm’s big hands came up to support your back, hands ghosting over the cups of your sports bra. 

Slowly, you unzipped the front of your bra, letting your breasts spill free. His hot gaze watched them bounce and settle into place, areolas crinkling with the change in temperature, nipples pointed. 

You watched his eyes grow dark and shining with lust. He looked up at you, seeking permission to fondle them. You rubbed your hands over them, offering them up to his hungry mouth. 

“Go ahead,” you said huskily.

Grimmjow needed no further prompting, wrapping his hot lips around one pert bud and sucking it into the cavern of his mouth. 

You sighed with pleasure, head tipping back, and eyes closing.

He sucked hungrily, savoring the faintest taste of salt on your skin, the filthy sounds spilling from your mouth. 

Your fingers tangled in the slightly longer hair at the back of his neck, gripping as he continued the slow assault on one breast. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as he nipped the side of your breast before switching to the other. This man was dissolving your control.

Your hips ground into his, sliding over the erection in his jeans. Fuck, he felt massive earlier when you were stroking him. He seemed double that now. It had been a long time since anyone had been inside you. 

The muscles of your pussy contracted sharply, aching for something to wrap around. You ground yourself over the bulge in his jeans again. You would have to stop soon, before something happened. 

Grimmjow’s lips were secure around your nipple, sucking, biting, and rolling. He moaned into your flesh. Your body responded amazingly to his touch. His big hands span your upper back. You feel so delicate in his hands; it’s nice since usually you have to be tough as nails.

The biker kissed each of your nipples again, then licked a wicked trail between the valley of your breasts up to your neck. Gods he was rock hard, he wanted to sheath himself inside you for relief. His sharp teeth caught the thin skin of your neck, sucking mercilessly before growling. 

You were going to have to stop. If not, you would surrender right then.

“Alright,” you panted, pushing on his chest. Your vision was hazy. “That’s enough big boy.” You knew your panties were soaked. 

Grimmjow growled against your neck, but moved away. 

Both of you were flushed and sweating. You slide off of his lap, trying to collect your thoughts.

When you trust yourself to speak, you say, “Next time you won’t lose, huh?”

Grimm flips you off but smirks. Next time. 


	18. [Urahara Kisuke x male!Reader - Teasing to Please]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were about to rip that stupid little fan out of your boyfriend’s hands if he waved it towards you one more time to tell you what to clean around the shop. He looked so effortless and sexy with it and knew it too, that it drove you mad. 
> 
> Not only that, he knew it drove you crazy and he refused to do anything about it. He had this terrible habit of driving you to the brink of jumping his bones and then not fulfilling his promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Request: Curious, though. Would you do a Male!Reader, or at least a Trans Male!Reader? If not, eh, well... I'll still read the ones that interest me. I see you already got some requests for Aizen and I'm excited to see what you'll do with him. 0u0
> 
> Thank you for replying! <3 Maybe another Urahara? (Since I'm guessing you already have ideas for the Aizen stories) I've got acouple scenario ideas, like Reader doing a long-con subtle flirting thing that drives the character up the wall because Reader genuinely seems imnocent and unaware of what they're doing; character eventually snaps and Reader reveals it was their plan all along and that drives the character more wild.  
> Or a more simple scenario of Reader drciding to one day randomly sit on character's lap while the character is talking/having a meeting or something. Character takes it in stride and acts like normal but later confronts Reader. Possible cuddling insues.  
> I'm open to any characters you might think fits those scenarios, tbh. Your writing is great and I'd probably be happy with whoever you choose. 0u0]
> 
> Author’s Note: So it’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything m x m. Probably a decade at least? So this required some research *ahempornahem*. Hopefully I’m not too rusty. 
> 
> [Urahara Kisuke x male!Reader - Teasing to Please]
> 
> Next - Coyote Starrk x Reader - If you can’t take the heat…
> 
> After - Izuru Kira x Reader - Taking the Lead
> 
> Beyond - Shinji, Kenpachi, and Kensei (not all in the same story though)

You were about to rip that stupid little fan out of your boyfriend’s hands if he waved it towards you one more time to tell you what to clean around the shop. He looked so effortless and sexy with it and knew it too, that it drove you mad. 

Not only that, he knew it drove you crazy and he refused to do anything about it. He had this terrible habit of driving you to the brink of jumping his bones and then not fulfilling his promises. 

Sure, Ichigo and his friends took priority when something happened. But sometimes, your boyfriend just fell asleep early or had a headache (from too much sake) or some other slightly lame excuse he couldn’t bring you off. 

Urahara Kisuke could be very frustrating.

Well two could play at that game. 

You would drive him crazy alright, crazy with lust. 

**

You started out the day by putting on your favorite flowery cover up, the one that framed your bare chest beneath. Sure it made you look a little fem, but it drove Kisuke crazy when you didn’t wear undershirts. In fact, it was nearly impossible for him to keep from stroking the smooth planes of your flesh, fingers dipping into the grooves of your taunt muscles. 

“Good morning,” you said cheerfully, sipping your tea as you read the morning paper at the table. Kisuke had appeared in the doorway, bleary-eyed, stuffing the bucket hat down on his head. You could feel those grey eyes raking over you. 

“Good morning,” he said suspiciously, sitting down beside you and reaching for a bowl of rice. You had been smart and placed all the food on your side of the table. His fingers twitched slightly, ready to touch you but you were sure to pull away just out of his reach.v “What’s the occasion?”

Mock hurt, you asked, “Do I need an occasion to look cute for my boyfriend?” You tapped the end of his nose.

“When it concerns you, yes,” Kisuke said with a long-suffering sigh as he dug into the rice. “What do you want?” 

“Why I never!” you said, grinning ear to ear. You made sure to stretch luxuriously, elongating your torso and letting the cover-up shift down your shoulders. 

Ever the sharp observer, Kisuke couldn’t take his eyes off you. The former captain longed to touch the smooth planes of flesh, pinch your nipples in that way that made you a grunting, panting mess. But he wasn’t sure what your endgame was just yet. 

Of course he suspected it was because it had been a while since the two you had gotten intimate. The shopkeeper knew that he was bad to leave you high and dry more often than not. 

Rather than pulling you into his lap and raking his hands through your hair, Urahara decided he would play your game and wait to see how you teased him next. 

“When it comes to you, darling, I am always suspicious,” your boyfriend said, averting his eyes. “I didn’t make it this far without questioning everything.”

You pouted, but a fire rose in your chest, urging you to push further. You knew Kisuke was a genius, that he had fought hard to survive over the years. When he fled the 12th Division, you had gone with him. When he had taken over that post, you had known that you would follow him around until the end of your days. 

Before Kisuke, you had tried your best with women. There had been some wild flings over the years. But there was something about the new, shy captain that had lured you in. And it seemed that he saw something similar in you, because it had not taken the two of you long to become an item. 

The two of you worked well together, because you were opposites. Of course, that made times like now difficult, why you had to play your game and why he was obligated to follow you. 

“Suit yourself. I’ll just be looking gorgeous over here,” you shrugged, showing off plenty of skin as you got up to start cleaning. 

Kisuke found that he had to look away. You were entirely too tempting this morning and he wasn’t ready for this game to end. 

He watched as you rose up gracefully, stretching your long spine slowly, rolling your abdomen a little. 

It was important to stretch, you thought, as you rolled your head on your neck, knowing full well that your boyfriend was trying not to watch. You bent over at the waist, taking time to pick up your bucket of cleaning supplies, being sure to accentuate your legs. 

You didn’t have to turn around to know that Kisuke suddenly needed a drink. Instead, you smirked and kept going. As you rose, you made sure to bend your knees a little, make your ass pop for his viewing pleasure. 

Behind you, he sputtered and cursed beneath his breath. 

You smirked and carried on with your usual chores. In the eating area, you dusted, being sure to bend over and get in all those little hard to see corners, all those obscure edges. Every now and again, you would glance over your shoulder on the premise of wiping your face off, to see Kisuke looking somewhat guilty.

After a few moments, you noticed that Kisuke had left the room. Your smirked in victory, deciding that you had finally given him a little taste of what you had to endure. 

But, the strains of your favorite song soon floated through the rice-paper walls. Oh, he didn't! He knew you couldn't resist this song. Your ass would clap with thunderous applause and you would be powerless to stop it until the song was over. 

You knew he was trying to get you to forfeit, so you would submit to him faster. This was low, using your favorite song. You had to show him you are the master. 

Instead, you hastily stuffed your ears with earplugs. It didn't eliminate the noise completely, but you could better control your response. You opted for just bobbing your head a little and swaying your hips as Kisuke came back in with a portable speaker. 

Glancing at his face, you could see the corners turned down in slight disappointment his plan didn't work. His frown was incredibly sexy and you hurriedly directed your gaze back to task lest you be caught in his trap. 

You cleared the dishes from the table, taking them to the kitchen and starting water in the sink. The music followed you. It was a different song now, but one that he knew you still liked to dance to. In fact, you could find some way to move around to most music. The world of the living had ensnared you with its popstars, absent from Soul Society. 

As you scrubbed bowls, your hips continued to move slightly. 

Kisuke took a long moment in the doorway, watching his torture play out. The way you swayed sent the blood rushing to his groin. You swayed like that when he plowed into you from behind sometimes, backing your taut little ass into his lap. 

Deciding to add further flame to the fire, Kisuke brought a dish he had intentionally held back into the kitchen.

"Maa, you forgot this," he said, being sure to brush the side of your body as he plopped the dish in the sink. The former captain was pleased when he felt you stiffen slightly, but continue your work.

It required all your willpower not to press yourself against him and beg him to take you right there at the sink. Tessai and the kids were outside, you could hear them playing. 

You simply nodded and continued your work, trying to wipe your face free of reaction. 

"Remember to start the kettle?" he asked, lips too close to your ear before he moved away. 

This time you didn't even nod. You weren't even sure the dishes were getting good and clean now. Your thoughts were completely scrambled with other times when he pressed his lips to your ear, to tell you how much he loved being inside your tight hole, fingers wrapped tightly around your cock, stroking you wickedly slow. 

By now, you had worked yourself up. You had to shift around the growing bulge in your sweatpants as you tried to work in the suddenly too small kitchen. 

Needing a change of pace, you headed for the sweltering stock room for a moment alone. It was blessedly free of noise and people, so you just breathed deeply for a moment. Your plan had been to tease him all day, to work him up where he couldn't work, he would just have to fuck you. 

Could you hold out that long? You opted for a quick smoke, a nasty habit you knew, but it helped calm your nerves.

"___?" Kisuke's voice came floating through the space. 

"Coming!" you shouted back, wiping your forehead again. 

There was some sort of meeting scheduled for mid-afternoon. He probably wanted you to serve the tea. 

You smirked, walking back, a bad idea forming. 

The kettle was screaming as you retrieved it, setting it amongst the cups and other tea necessities on the tray. Ahead, the doors were open to the eating area and voices floated towards you. 

You didn't recognize some of them, but you could hear the show Kisuke was putting on for them. 

As you entered the room, you made sure your coverup was flapping around your waist, the fringe moving tantalizingly. 

"Ah, _____, thank you," Kisuke smiled as you set the tray down on the table. His guests glanced briefly at you, continuing the conversation as you served their tea. 

When you were finished, you served your boyfriend and then daintily sat in his lap as he continued talking. 

It wasn't that you couldn't attend his meetings, they weren't secret. It was the fact that you chose his lap as your seat.

Up close, you could see his grey eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitch as he continued talking. Oh, he would give you such a tongue lashing later, hopefully with his tongue. You hoped you weren’t blushing too much. 

Beneath you, his cock flared to life, pulsing against your thigh. You grinned and made sure to make yourself comfortable, wiggling your hips just a little, as if adjusting your seat. 

To his credit, Kisuke didn't groan, but you caught the flinch. After this long, there weren't too many expressions you couldn't read. 

You stroked his thigh out of view of the company, slowly moving your fingertips over the fabric of his pants, sipping your tea like a champ. 

The meeting didn't last long. 

"Maa, ____, would you show our guests out?" Kisuke turned and asked you. There was no way in hell he would be able to get up and disguise his raging hard-on, the captain realized as you stood up. 

"Of course," you said sweetly, leading the way. 

Once the guests were gone, you took your sweet time going back to Kisuke only to find he was waiting for you in the nearest doorway. 

"You drive a hard bargain," he said, quirking up a blond eyebrow, gaze flickering over you from top to bottom. "But I think we can make a deal."

"What do you mean?" you asked, molding your face into a picture of surprise. 

Kisuke didn’t answer. Instead, he closed the distance between you, molding his mouth to yours, hands holding your cheeks. You won. 

You moaned as his tongue slipped into your mouth, massaging and fighting. Your hands tangled in his blonde locks as you pushed him into the nearest wall, bodies rubbing together, the friction making you hard. 

It had been too long, Kisuke realized, as you kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and his chest. His stomach flopped in that pleasant way. His hat fell with a soft ‘whomp’ to the floor as you pushed the fabric of his robe out of the way. 

“Hold on,” he panted, grabbing a fistful of your hair, stilling your movements. 

“What?” You whined, looking up at him. His cock was rock hard beneath your cheek. 

“Not out here,” Kisuke said, releasing your hair so you could stand. 

You pouted for a moment, but Kisuke anticipated this. He scooped you up.

“Bedroom. In case someone comes back in.”

You didn’t protest as your boyfriend carried you bridal-style to your shared bedroom in the back. He set your feet down on the floor so you could lower yourself to the ground again, kneeling on the soft, stacked bedding. 

Looking up at him from the veil of your lashes, you were rewarded with a rare sight of the former captain blushing, hair tousled, and clothing disheveled. You smirked, grabbing his cock once more, palming him until he was rock hard again, ready for the comfort of your mouth. 

"Please, don't tease," he tells you, long fingers carding through your hair. You nod, pulling his member free of his pants and swirling your tongue around the reddened head. 

He moaned, fingers tightening in your hair as you begin to swallow him down. Kisuke has to resist just thrusting harshly into your mouth and fucking your face. Instead, he utters filthy phrases that you are privilege to only in the bedroom. 

You smirk slightly around his girth, continuing to slowly bob your head up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling and lapping. Between your legs, your own member is almost painful with need. You settle for palming yourself as you continue to pleasure your boyfriend. 

His cock twitches in your mouth and you know that he is getting close to release. When both of you have gone too long without relief, your sessions tend to be short and sweet. 

"Stop," Kisuke pants. "Not yet." 

He gently pushes your mouth away, drawing you up to your full height and kissing you slowly. He tastes himself, mixed with your familiar taste of tea and perhaps a cigarette. He would chastise you later, but for now he settled for just languidly pressing himself against your body, holding your waist close. 

"Mmmm, I can't wait to get inside you," he says when the two of you finally break for air. 

"I'll get the lube," you tell him huskily, moving to the hiding spot. It was one thing to know that the two of you together, it was another to leave evidence of it everywhere. Tessai didn't relish cleaning up any messes or coming across any personal items. 

Kisuke slowly lubed himself, stroking his magnificent cock, watching the sight of you slipping your pants down your slender hips and finally shedding your coverup. You were athletic, even to the point of being a little thin at times, but your body glowed with anticipation. 

There was a chair set up in the corner just for sex purposes. You bent over it, ass sticking out as far as you could manage, holding your cheeks open with both hands. 

Fingers sticky with lube swirled around your hole, one finger pumping in and out of the resistant flesh. You moaned at his touch, arching your back slightly, hands coming to rest on the back of the chair for balance. 

"You like that," he said; it wasn't a question. Your hole squeezed around his digit as he sank it deeper inside you, prepping with lube. 

"Mmmm, ngh!" You moaned as he sank a second, sticky lube finger inside you. You backed your hips up to meet his pumps. Your own cock ached, begging to be touched, but you waited, letting the pleasure build.

"I can't wait to fuck this tight little hole," he said. You could hear his fingers slicking over his engorged member in time with the two inserted in your ass. He scissored you and added one last finger. 

You cried out, grabbing your dick and giving yourself a few pumps. Gods it felt good and he wasn't even inside you yet. 

The full head pressed at your entrance, slowly slipping past the tight ring of muscles into your prepped channel. 

Both of you moaned as he fully rested inside your ass, his familiar hefty weight comforting. It had been far too long. 

Kisuke peppered your upper back and neck with sloppy kisses before withdrawing slowly. 

"So fucking tight for me," he whispered, more to himself, as his hips snapped forward inside you. 

"Mmm, mhm," you moaned, resisting the urge to back up and speed things up. You wanted to savor this. "Just for you."

The sound of his flesh meeting yours had you ready to cum all over the chair. 

Long-fingered hands held your waist for support as he plunged into you again. Gods how you had craved this, missed him making love to you. 

The two of you fell into an easy and familiar rhythm of his hips snapping against your ass, a large hand coming down and painting your cheeks red before massaging them. There were little background noises of "ngh!" and "ughn" as he pounded his cock inside of you, pants and gasps as the angle changed. 

Your fingers gripped the back of the chair so hard, your knuckles were turning white. 

"I'm so fucking close," you moaned, grabbing your cock and stroking harshly. Kisuke continued angling his thrusts to pound that sensitive spot inside you. 

A grunt of pleasure was all you got in response as you felt his release inside your hole. His cock twitched several times, the hot liquid coating the walls. 

Quickly, his hand joined yours, Kisuke still buried to the hilt inside you. Your release soon shivered through your body, ropes of pearly cum leaking over both your hands. 

"Hold on," he said breathlessly, kissing the back of your neck before he withdrew to grab a towel. 

Your legs were so wobbly you threatened to fall down. 

Your boyfriend dutifully wiped both of you off before throwing the towel aside. 

"Come on," he murmured against your ear, helping you to stand. 

"Can we cuddle?" you asked sleepily, head on his shoulder as he headed for the bedding.

"Of course," Kisuke answered, kissing the top of your head. You were so cute when you were tired out from his ministrations. 

You pulled him down with you among the soft blankets, his arms encircling you as you started to drift off. 

"I won," you tell him sleepily.

"Hm, we'll debate that later," he yawned, arms squeezing you tight to his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment! I don't bite! Requests accepted right now. Something you want to see?


End file.
